Image source: https://www.pexels.com/photo/country-lane-field-meadow-puddles-1551/
Everything always comes to a head,
like gray clouds on a breezy summer afternoon.
They roll in suddenly, catching us unawares.
and there is relief
not for the ground, but for the tired sky.
There was a lot to hold on to
and now it has been let go.
whatever that means to you.
Oh, you’ve let me go,
says papery leaf, for a while miserable in the dampening mud.
Tree knows not the leaf
so tree discards the leaf;
they are not one and the same.
Eventually I will return to you
in a way that you cannot refuse!
I will become you.
Leaf cries for the ground to take him in;
begs for the rain to dissolve him.
A story inspired during the autumn, but held back until an appropriate time.
Sometimes we don’t recognize ourselves in one another and it is difficult to appreciate our commonalities, what we share. Then again, we come from one source.
How can we adapt ourselves so that others will recognize us, and in so doing, embrace us as they would the known, the familiar?