If I were but a falling leaf, I wouldn't care for anything.
My life would be played out on the breeze, and falling short would not be such a shame.
If I were but a falling leaf.
I'd leave my parents lengthy tree, and fall to the ground, yes I would leave.
And during the fall I would flutter with glee, as I descended down, and just before I hit the earth, I'd look up to the sky and see.
If I were but a falling leaf.
I would mold my edges to catch the wind, and drift upon the gusts of change, most happily.
If I were but a fallen leaf.
I would greet the Earth upon the ground, and curl my corners to the sky, to soak the rain and drink so deep.
If I were but an autumn leaf.
The sound of the wind would not mean change. But that another journey has just begun, and that I and the journey are one and the same.
If I were to fall like an Autumn leaf.
I hope that I would be the same.
Written on a bench. On a lunch break. And in earnest.