The Wisdom of Falling {a poem}

When at first I saw your curled fist
budding green on the branch
I thought I knew your story.

I watched you unfurl
and wondered,
Did you bring spring
Or did spring bring you?

You soaked in every moment
sunlight and rain
You said 'yes' to it all,
never complained
or strained.

Eventually, though,
the air turned crisp
and you surrendered
became transfigured.
You glowed golden in your
unmistakable way.

When your place on the branch
became completely bare
My heart filled with recognition
I had always known that you would leave.

Until, several sunsets later,
while driving in my car,
My eyes came across a hundred broken brown crunchy bits of you
running full force ahead of me in the street.

A charge of wild horses skipping
with lively playfulness
laughing ecstatically in the wind
your dance both effortless and fervent.

I'll admit that such unique rebirth
caught me by surprise
Your gentle faded falling and leaving
replaced by freely animated bliss.

So then tell me
If you can
when did you first understand
That in your falling,
you would fly?

Was it when you dared at last
to free your grasp
from the wooded arm that held you?
Was it when you finally faced the end?

Were you astounded
when you fled that forested fortress
And floated your way
Into freedom?
Were you surprised by leafy wisdom?

Or did you always know?
~LB

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