A stem that barely shows in the spring
By summer becomes a fully formed leaf
That dances to the gusts of early fall
Until breaking free it escapes with the wind.

Then it cavorts like a brazen butterfly
Until tumbling onto the cold dry ground
Where it breaks apart to nourish the trees
That will grow new leaves for the coming of spring.

The old man totters on his cane
While pondering his life and tightening his scarf
He steps unsure, as he crushes underfoot
The last spring’s plenty into next spring’s hope.

Reminding himself that “winter’s approaching
And I’ll need to stay warm to see the spring,”
He has only his cane and scarf to bring
His final flight to a graceful ending.

The footprints he makes in fallen leaves
Will not remain but be swept away
Along with his past and spoken words
Except for what he wrote in truth.

There are roots that feed on truth – he knew –
His life had shown what might come forth
For whatever lies underfoot will sprout and renew
For all awaken to light and warmth.

10/17/2016, AJD