There couldn’t be
a better backdrop for change
than one which inexorably turns gold,
red,
and fades away.
Change is good and
change is hard.
Change
is
inevitable.
It is the hardest thing to see ourselves
bare
when the leaves fall away,
and we are left to assess our own growth,
all our knots
and all our bark, peeling.
It is the hardest thing
to acknowledge our own vulnerability.
Will we still be here come spring?
Or will we simply learn
to see the forest
for the trees.
© Asif Virani, 2014.
the crispness of this season
asks to know both who we were
and who we are
~
the maple, the oak, watch over themselves with silent grace
as the leaves they laboured to produce,
and that kept them alive,
dry out and fall steadily away
what remains of our victories and defeats,
of our convictions and our epiphanies?
we have been able to keep nothing
material from our endeavours
who can say whether we leave the past
or if it leaves us;
whether we ourselves walked paths
or if they grew up beneath our feet?
we have had nothing
and nothing has been ours
and yet, we are not who we remember.
saara 