THESE LEAVES THAT FALL IN THE LIGHT - to Sheila Hancock
Why is it easier for a leaf to fall and rot?
Than it is for me to see my own death
How can I rid this fear of falling off?
Surely this life is as golden as it would seem
From one leaf to another in autumn -
Or even if fallen, too early to the gales
And storms - in one's life that can never be
Justified or reconciled -
But left as this leaf ripped and torn from its once happier place.
And through life from then, even the tree is never seen,
Not the other leaves, to see, to touch, to ever hold as dear
And like this leaf, I must rid myself and learn to accept more,
And even more -
Then I am sure this life will be replenished and soaked,
As I shall come to see, how wonderful, this humus is to be,
With compassion and dignity, to see this leaf in another form,
So so splendidly awoken,
To be as seed in return unspoken
Oh! How great this life!
For if only I should be as open,
Then I may be able to praise these leaves that breathe;
These leaves that fall in the light,
So I can put to sleep,
This long long restless night.