There was a leaf on the road. It was just an autumn leaf. It was dry yet vibrant; its stem holding proud. It was just an autumn leaf… that landed in the middle of my path; lightly, before my feet. My eyes fell on it. It was just like every other autumn leaf; it was unique. It spoke to me. It spoke of summertime. Of hope and happiness. The gentle breeze that would caress it and the winds that challenged it. It spoke of the rains that cleansed it and helped it grow stronger still. It spoke of its roots. That connected it to every other soul around it.
It spoke of change. The leaf braved the seasons. It knew not of the changes to come. Only that everyday it was protected under the eternal piercing sun. It spoke of the gentle cooling of autumn. The final change before it was time to let go. No longer would it be held together, no longer connected. It would not know what lay beneath on the earth. But the leaf knew it was time. It let go. It landed in the middle of my path. It told me it’s story. It brought a change within me. But as I knelt down to pick it up, the cool breeze took it away from my reach.
I mourned its absence. The corner of my eyes, my spirit searched for that little piece of change. As I walk the same path everyday. Would I see it again? What feeling would it invoke? Happiness? Hope? The way it spoke to me? Or the way it eluded me?
Or would it remind me of
I long for the leaf that lay in the middle of the road.