Dead leaves are pretty// Let Go. A poem by Rumi

(artwork by Irina Tall)

Vicious winds of autumn,

Dead leaves flying around,

The animals fled at the herald of cold,

The speed of change is indeed intriguing.

There I stood, eyes glued to the glass panes.

I saw an ashened tree’s last leaf dangling

And I wondered,

How the tree could cope with it-

Seeing its family depart forever?

Isn’t it impressing?

How someone can let go,

And brace for rebirth -

A phoenix in the chill.

Gobsmacked, I would glance every now and then,

Observing perpetual moons pass by,

Waiting for the spring to come,

And obliterate the bitter winter.

At last, the phoenix rose.

The dead branches sprouted anew,

Animals popped onto the resurrected land,

Bees frolicked for flowers,

The birds resonated better than ever.

Melting-ice rivers embraced the cool parched soil,

The soft wind spread its hands, caressing us,

The grey faded into the azure,

It all looked prettier than it had ever been.

-Rumi

(Rumi is a fifteen year old who loves writing, composing and the scent of gingerbread candles:))))