~
The flying leaf with (a) yellow texture,
is leaving home for something else,
It asks the wind to share affection,
To keep it sailing, to catch the sense.

From one perspective, it is falling,
On other hand, there’s spark of dance,
But only wind’s in charge of hauling,
To know its fate we stand no chance.

The weather’s changing, hours passing,
The leaf will make it to its end,
It takes it easy, without smashing,
It knows it will return one day.
~