LEAF

       Even by moonlight I could see leaves. Blown by early autumn’s gentle night-breeze, they danced. Not wildly nor carefree, but with joyous restraint; that was as it should be, for they still held on by their stems to twigs and branches of the tree near my front door.

       October is beautiful. I’ve always known so, but tonight – this special / ordinary night – its beauty seeps through my eyes and into my soul as, perhaps, no October has ever done before.

       Autumnal atmospherics allow all the glory of starlight to blend with the beams of the Harvest Moon, and I am enchanted.

       Enchanted. There is no other word.

       As I watch in enchantment, one leaf slows in its dance, leans lazily to one side. Still watching I see it bend even more, and am surprised to see it fall. Why surprised, I do not know:  is not autumn Falling Season?

       My eyes will not leave it, follow it each waft of its journey until it rests somewhere on the ground. Somewhere I do not know, for it is now out of sight. Out of sight, but not out of mind, for as it fell, thoughts raced into my mind. Thoughts I must share, for not even a leaf should die without being known.
 
 

       “Leaf.

       “Leaf, hear me, if you can: Drift comfortably on your bier of air. Go gently to your place of rest, but know you did not live in vain. 

       “Late last winter, when all the world lay in cold whiteness, you waited to be born. You were not seen, could not be touched, but you existed just the same.

       “As winter released its bitter grip and spring dampened it’s many-hued brush, you came forth. Young. Tender. Brave.

       “Through spring’s idyllic days you grew, matured.

       “When summer came you were ready. You gave part of my world your protection, your cooling, refreshing shade. A tiny part, to be sure, but that was all that was asked of you, and you did it magnificently!

       “Finally, autumn came, and with it began your death. A slow death. A sure and lingering death, but you did not complain. You had done your part. Your part of this world was blessed because you lived. You knew your task; you served your calling well. You feared not death, and danced.

       “Danced for me.

       “In life’s ages, you lived such a short season. No one knew you. No one thanked you. No one even noticed you. You simply lived and did your part, in sun and storm, and in doing so you made my life a little bit more wonderful.

       “I watched you dance before Death.

       “I watched you drift gently to your grave.
 
 

        “Leaf, if you can hear me now, thank you!

        “You did not live in vain, and as this single tear slips gently down my cheek, I must tell you this:

        “I love you!”