In that too brief moment when the old leaf,
released from the now hibernating branch,
finds itself adrift on an air current,
floating in limbo between sky and earth,
doubt may raise its ugly head and whisper,
urging secret fears to find their voices
and sing a mournful dirge for what once was
(now that it is dead and gone for all time).
In that span of seconds, one loses track
of the waiting earth, there below, littered
with other fallen leaves, other lost souls
who have returned to the one source of life,
feeding the dreams of the yet unborn trees
with the body of their experience.
08 JAN 2003
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