Leaving

Ever the wonder is the

Non-evergreen tree:

What compels it to remain

When shell is stripped away?

Does the nakedness of winter

Send sanity asunder?

Does it tremble in blackened nights

With nothing to cover its fear

Or protect its insides?

All limbs exposed

As sticks thrown in the sky-

Vulnerable.

Easy home for vultures

To land haphazardly.

So, wonders the tree,

Is there hope for me?

This isn’t my purpose, surely.

Surely?

Without the death of the leaves,

There would be no gain.

So the truth remains:

Life cycles, one leaf at a time,

And many rains.

Thus, a tree doesn’t have to define

Itself by seasonal trend,

But the roots therein.

Change happens.

Leaves fall;

Leaves grow.

I fall;

God grows.