The Rise and Fall of a Leaf
Implored to just let go,
a leaf in autumn’s rustic dry state,
accepts its windblown plight,
and death is not a burden but a flight,
a majestic tour of world and light
dancing on the trees,
home now gone, to rest with other leaves
and peacefully find slumber.
Brittle and broken,
a life once outspoken falls away,
and back to earth a leaf is sewn,
to help with other growth and show
the cycles of rise and fall all worthy,
and as that consciousness fades,
such views fulfill its final sight,
its parting vision allayed.
Those sturdy branches,
those bows that release a thousand leaves,
grieve quietly, but in gracious knowing,
those cycles do agree,
tis but a season, a change in need,
to heed in nature’s way,
and the tree does find its symmetry
to close its eyes and breathe.
Sleep now in sweet release,
a tree’s heartbeat soft and quiet,
its hardened shell a blanket
in winter’s sight, as chills and rain invite
a hibernation long, until the spring awakens,
and none will be forsaken,
just resting before the burgeoning
of its plight.
When tiny green shoots appear,
as sun in warmth reveres the change,
and leaves so quickly assume their posts,
a thousand fold of vibrant green hope,
do fill those winter branches,
stems like claws now dressed for more,
as breathe they do and fill the air,
so sweet their many forms.
And upon those bows the leaves look down
to wonder about this colored world before,
and as each day passes,
their growth surpasses all expectation,
within each heart, each beat in time,
they know they must align,
and death is just a final flight of fancy,
a slumbered romance to some day live again.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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