To Become The Last Leaf

What is this feeling?

This wrenching propulsion

To become the last leaf,

Hanging onto the last gray branch

Of a winter tree, quivering in the dawn sunlight.

 

This hunger to feel my delicacy,

My vulnerable position,

Poised over the ground,

Clinging to my source with

A thread of fiber.

 

I dream of breathing in the light

Of a new morning and surrendering to icy breezes,

To let the winds of the day embrace me,

And take me with them,

Instead of cherishing the illusion

That I am in control, that I must defend myself.

 

I feel my threads,

The sinuous fears that glue me in place,

 

I hear the stories I tell myself

About falling into danger, wrecklessness,

If I let go.

 

Through the maelstrom of my worry,

Soft winds tell me a new story,

Of hope, possibility, newness, blessing,

And I am listening.

 

The sun rises warm and yellow,

And I feel and safe,

And seen,

And loved.

 

There is no where to fall to.

 

I let go, trusting my winds,

And float, aware of how I am gently

Swept upward,

Away from the ground,

From destruction,

Disappointment,

Failure,

Loneliness,

and missed opportunities.

 

I rise.

 

I rise,

And I greet the sun

In Her new, vast, morning.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “To Become The Last Leaf

  1. This is nicely done! I like beginning with a question. I like the image of the last leaf (I think the word “quivering” is too much and not needed). I love the questions this poem raises about source, control, fear of being purely God’s and loved as an expression of God, not as a mortal. Much of this poem reminds me of Shakespeare’s lines in As You Like It: Here suffer we not the penalty of Adam; the season’s difference, as the icy fang and churlish chiding of the winter’s wind, which, when it bites and blows upon my body, even til I shrink with cold, I smile and say this is no flattery, these are counselors that feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity . . .” I find the line breaks in your poem provide lots of space to breath through the poem and be “swept upward” into the “new vast morning!”

    • Lovely! I will re-read the poem with more attention to “quivering” and will see what speaks to me, thank you. Great connection with the play! Well…played (ugh). Love you : )

  2. Having just seen the movie “I AM,” your line about the stories we tell ourselves resonates throughout human history. The movie suggests that the last 300 years of scientific thinking – evolution, social adaptation, survival of the fittest, genetic mutation, etc. – are the stories we’ve all been telling ourselves and it’s a lie! Then, as Pilate said, “What is true?”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s