As Fall approached,
he thought about the leaves,
short lives spent tethered to a tree,
growing old
and falling to the earth,
only to crumble
and join the earth
in a roiling soup of life,
circular
and destined to repeat.
They burst forward
from the branches,
lithe and green,
with shiny exteriors
and no wrinkles.
Beaten back by the wind
and weather,
pummeled by falling branches,
dying quick deaths
when their support
fell to the ground,
they were exposed to the elements
and had no defenses.
How did they deal with the death
and destruction that came upon them?
What could they do
in the face of a certain end?
Then,
in a flash of insight,
he realized that it wasn’t his decision.
It wasn’t for him
to worry about the leaves.
It wasn’t for him
to find a solution
to things beyond his control.
Instead,
his only task
was to care for the leaves,
to admire their beauty,
and to follow them on their life journey,
until they joined the rest of the earth,
and rested until they could make the journey again. 