Ultimate Purpose
This morning, the leaves were dancing Trees were hysterical waving their branches about The leaves were oblivious Free at long last Their best day On their worst behavior They swarmed together in spinning hoards They scattered across city streets No regard for traffic They lifted and landed, tossed and twisted swooped and swung raced and rested, as the wind dictated. Mother trees gasped in horror too afraid to look but unable to stop themselves. They hemmed and hawed sighed and sobbed waved and wailed reached and retracted as their children scattered freely about. The tree's choice is a familiar one: She can grasp tightly with sore branches denying the inevitable take it personal then mourn her loss. Or she can let go let nature's plan unfold Giving up the months she spent Nurturing and caring for her precious leaves. For they have their own destination Their own divine path Either way, an inevitable windstorm will sweep through a