A wave of love in sun, a flutter in a breeze,
one leaf, source of future, sustenance for life,
might it yearn or cry or bleed?
Might it sail free in frosted air to find its way
in a turbulent sea? Or will it join the many I
rake into piles
where dormant seeds will someday feed? I lift
one straggler caught beneath a stone, waiting
for a chance to flee,
to seek its native destiny. Am I one step in a
random dance? Or part of predetermined
choreography, where seeds sent forth
by blast of wind through swirling snow will find
their future in a frozen womb, a place to grow
beneath dead leaves. A home.