We learnt from trees
that letting grow and go
is a natural thing to do.
We admire how they shape us
into a mosaic of fierce fragility,
ready to fly away when time ticks.
But I am disheartened.
My tree had tightened her grasp
to keep us from going bare
into an encroaching winter storm.
Now addicted to care and love,
she's adorning herself -- aware or not --
with my crusted dreams rattling
in the gentle spring breeze.
I'm an old leaf now.
I've grown by your sap.
I've stood gratefully.
I've even turned in my green.
But I'm now straining from your grasp.
It hurts,
both you and me,
but I want to fly.
I want to go.
Apr 12
Apr 12, 2026 at 2:25 AM UTC
We learnt from trees
that letting grow and go
is a natural thing to do.
We admire how they shape us
into a mosaic of fierce fragility,
ready to fly away when time ticks.
But I am disheartened.
My tree had tightened her grasp
to keep us from going bare
into an encroaching winter storm.
Now addicted to care and love,
she's adorning herself -- aware or not --
with my crusted dreams rattling
in the gentle spring breeze.
I'm an old leaf now.
I've grown by your sap.
I've stood gratefully.
I've even turned in my green.
But I'm now straining from your grasp.
It hurts,
both you and me,
but I want to fly.
I want to go.