The Leaf

Once the epitome of exuberance,
Dancing with the strokes of the wind,
Showering in the tickles of rain,
Now, it has stilled.

Once a creator of a beautyscape,
Filler of the fragrance,
Absorber of the sun’s golden rays,
Now, a poignant shadow.

Once a giver of life,
Now severed from its own.

Some fell from the highest boughs,
Some from the lowest twig,
Some couldn’t withstand the wind and were dethroned,
While others danced gracefully, sacrificing themselves for the tree’s bloom.
Does it even matter?

Now, all of them—
Together,
Munched, crunched, kneaded
Into bits and pieces.
The eager Earth, impatient to dissolve them,
Unable to differentiate which once blossomed
Or which was dethroned.

If all are destined to dissolve,
What’s all the fuss about?
I asked the tree.