The dance of falling leaves

The Dance of the Falling Leaves I watch the trees loosen their grip on time, One leaf at a moment, As if letting go is a lesson learned slowly. They do not fall in a hurry. They sway, hesitate, remember the branch— Then choose the air. Each leaf dances its own goodbye, Spinning like a secret whispered to the wind, Carrying seasons I once stood inside. Some drift with grace, Others tumble wildly, As though arguing with gravity Before finally trusting it. And in their descent, I see pieces of myself— Dreams shed, names outgrown, Old versions stepping aside So new roots can breathe. The ground receives them without judgment, A soft applause of earth and silence. Nothing is lost here, Only transformed. I stand still, Letting the leaves fall around my feet, Learning that endings can be beautiful When they are allowed to move, Not cling. Tonight, I carry their lesson home— That even in letting go, There is rhythm, There is meaning, There is dance. 🍂