Wherever they are gathered,
they are sure to draw
attention to themselves.
They are unable to avoid the
same eventual malady
but their symptoms are
beautiful to behold.
They are painters of great
landscapes,
yet challenge painters to
capture their colors.
Their greatest moments come
during their downfall.
And our rejuvenation comes
with their rebirth.
They are the harbingers of
memories
of when we climbed among them.
Yet they harbor children in
their earthy smell and dampness
before they return again to
the earth from the pyre.
They are from various branches
of the same order
and keep their life force
locked in large cells,
Which escapes as the year
wears on,
eventually killing the
jailers, and battening down their homes.
But were they not to die,
they might never be born.
Were they not to mingle in the
eddying winds,
they would remain quite
content,
but all the less noticed.
Regardless, wherever they are
gathered,
they are sure to draw
attention to themselves.
Humans be humble, lest we
forget
the wonder of tree leaves.
2 comments:
i like how this poem lets me think its leading me one place but takes me somewhere completely unexpected.
well done, poet.
then you understand the poem and my intention.
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