All of the Things of Fall


All of the things of fall
are as beautiful in their dying
as they were in their birth,
as if it were a farewell party,
a last hurrah, a riotous wake.

May I also be beautiful
in my surrender, fading
from green to brilliant
orange or red, and may
the moment of my letting go
be as precious as the leaf 
that falls, unnoticed, 
to the ground
that catches it.   

Still, there always remains
those few leaves that cling
and hold on, withered brown
in their stubbornness. Refusing 
to fall, they face the stark white winter 
alone while, below, the others return 
to that from which they came; 
returning, as it were, to home. 

Photo Source.

1 comment:

  1. Stunning, this image of surrender, returning to where we came from, the cycle of it all. Maybe one day, I'll have a book of your poems on my shelf. How lovely that would be...