A green leaf floats through the spring air
Winding, blowing, moving toward the rapidly approaching ground
Too soon, I cry, protesting its lot in life.
It is not the Fall; its brothers and sisters still suckle from branches.
Why have you abandoned it!

The landing is soft, but my movement continues
The wind bellows,
my barely three-dimensional shell is hurled into the air once again.
Twirling under the gale force breeze I am propelled further from home.
I cannot see my comfort any longer,
Alone, abandoned, I hope for security, long for peace.

Where are you?
The voice cries out in the wilderness.
Where am I?
Tears run hot down weathered cheeks
Only an echo returns, hollow and vacant
There is no flesh behind the words
All seems lost, there is no peace, no security.

And yet,
In my falling, rushing, twirling life,
There is hope.
The ground that held me briefly was soft and I was not broken,
The wind that carries me does not tear me apart,
And the distance from brother and sister is the journey I know I must take.

And so, the wind carries me from life to death
This barely three-dimensional shell will fail someday,
The life will cease to run warmly through thin veins,
Someday I will feed the earth, but until that time
I choose to hope the world into new growth.

A green leaf floats through the spring air
curling, bending, looping in the wind trying to stay afloat
aloft it sees river and raven and mountain.
Creation screams and waves as it floats by spurred on by the breeze
Buffeted by the wind it journeys to new places,
not secure
not peaceful
but hopeful, because there is no alone any longer.



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