THE LEAF

I sit at my morning table

Teacup in hand,

As I witness a leaf waft slowly but deliberately to the ground.

It is that time of year

When those beings I witnessed as buds,

Have grown, blown and flourished,

Now leave the comfortable

Mother branch and flutter to the ground,

Joining other brothers and sisters waiting for the rake,

Or melting with the coming snow.

I ponder this step,

Having read of the soul

That likely inhabits all of life, 

And wonder if this fluttering path downwards,

Waiting to move on to the next,

Embraces all of its journey and with willingness.

Does it cherish this next step?

Its new stage of being? 

Ready for what’s to come,

Trusting the new stage as perfect?

Then so shall I!

Not questioning, but instead celebrating

The path that is to come!

 

Denny Daikeler