They ask me,
“Why do you like fall?
That is when everything begins to die,
It’s a bit tragic, don’t you think?”
But I think it’s kind of beautiful.

The thing about dying is it gives chance for new life,
It is a fresh start.
And so as each leave freely falls,
Floating ever so gracefully towards the ground,
It knows that it is giving space for something new to be created.

And no, we should not forget those leaves,
And I believe that is why they linger,
Because it is okay to mourn the past,
But soon the great wind will pass through the land,
And carry old souls to their new location.

It will be dark,
And even dead for a small bit of time,
But soon, those new beginnings,
Those little buds of life will come sprouting out,
Just when we feel as though we should give up,
Throw in the towel, one might say,
And they will bring hope.

And so, when I think of fall, I think about haircuts,
I think about cutting away the past,
And watching each hair strand float towards the ground.
When I think of fall, I think of a new season,
A chance to try something new,
Perhaps, something I was too afraid to do before.
And when I think of fall, I think of him.

You see, sometimes I do feel sad,
I feel sorry for the leaves,
When their fresh and tight texture becomes wrinkled and old,
I feel bad when they start to lose their bright color,
To something more dull.
When the leaves begin to plummet,
I occasionally want to reach out,
And place it gently back on to its branch,
So that it can stay forever,
Because adventures,
And new lives are scary.

When long strands of hair begin to hit wooden floor,
I fear that I will miss the way things used to be.
New seasons are terrifying,
And hard to adjust to.
So much so that I feel an itch in my throat,
And water building up in my eyes,
That reminds me,
Tells me,
That something new is coming.

And sometimes I fear that I left something safe,
That maybe it would have been easier,
More convenient,
To have stayed.
But the problem with that is I wouldn’t have him.
Because yes, it was frightening to leave,
Especially leave something that had lasted for so long,
But sometimes something cannot last through all of the seasons,
A leaf may look healthy,
And wonderful,
All throughout the spring and summer,
But sometimes true colors begin to show when autumn hits.
And I do not want a leaf,
I want a tree.
Because although the leaves may not last,
A tress always stays.

A leaf is a personality,
But a tree,
A tree is a foundation that can be shaped,
And molded throughout time.
Different leaves will come and go,
But the strong bark stays steady,
Through wind,
Rain,
And snow.
And will gain new insight as spring begins to near.

And I hope that I have found my tree,
Because you, my dear,
Seem as though you will stay.
You are my fresh start,
Better than any haircut, or new season.
I hope that our roots stay strong,
‘Though leaves may fall.
We stand tall,
And hopefully
Together.