Picked up by the twirling wind, the fallen leaf dances once more. Once forsaken by the very tree it was loyal its whole life to, it still remains a thing of beauty, as will be the leaf that falls after it. For this wasn’t betrayal, it was a celebration of its life and an honor bestowed upon it, the honor to finally fly without pain. The leaf has known no other world til now, though it has dreamt of many, their tales carried by the sweet wind and visiting bees. It’s painted one of many colors, or many colors as one. Ever the graceful angel that blesses all it touches, it was time to give back to the earth that gifted it life. It wasn’t any longer tied down with threads of anger, nor with strings of sadness. The leaf has a full life lived well behind it, without regrets. It has made peace, and so it chose to dance as it accepted the soil as its resting place. Who teaches it this dance? Perhaps no one. Yet still, it has witnessed each quiver of its kind among every evening’s breeze, and perhaps, was fascinated by the elegance, itself like a child intrigued and drawn in by the gentle ripples across a fresh rain puddle. The leaf had mastered the art in its mind some time prior, and proved it to itself and the world when it displayed its poise well. With the genteel strokes of a painter’s brush, its swinging down teasing the Earth of the kiss yet to come, just out of reach, so near yet so far. Once it touched the ground, the leaf lay there to rest, content with the thrill and the memories it held. Yet, there was a hint in the air, and all its fellow companions were quivering in anticipation.
For where there is another breeze, there is one more dance. 🍂