a fallen leaf

I couldn’t help but notice a fallen leaf or two out on my walk today as Autumn is in full swing.  The crisp October air with the seasons vibrant colors make for a soul-awakening combination.  The fallen leaves in a myriad of burnt orange, harvest yellow, musty brown, and fading green shades remind me that seasons do pass.  No matter how dim the future looks, there is always hope for tomorrow.       

Some things need to fall to the ground and die in the process of birthing new life. 

Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over.   -Jesus,  John’s Gospel c12 v24

Several years ago now, my brother passed the following along to me.  He was very well aware that I was struggling to believe in a brighter future for myself.  And he only knew the tip of the iceberg.  I felt as if I was tied to the deck of the Titanic at the time.  Hope was nothing but a memory to me as I was in the thick of a string of dark and dreary days that were slowly becoming a way of life for me.  And that would only be the beginning.  The months and years that ensued signaled not only the end of my most basic hopes but the shattering of my most ardent dreams. 

In my case anyways, my dark days just got darker.

Your Leaf Shall Be Again

Early one April morning a leaf was born anew
Created in the image of the vine from which it grew
The vine was but a maple sapling, the leaf but a sprout
Peeking from the forest floor below the aged and stout

Yes, summer is a season set aside for trees to grow
The maple and her lone companion stretched from head to toe
A timeless exhibition from which the sapling would rise
With broader leaf and harder wood – an emergence in her size

Time then brought the autumn where sweeping winds would rule
Challenging the youthful maple to a season – ending duel
As a predator assaulted, the leaf began to slip
And giving in, as all trees do, the maple lost her grip

If trees could cry, a tear would join her leaf there on the ground
Our maple tried her best that day to deny the leaf lay down
Then suddenly voices sprung from an aspen and an oak
‘Don’t bend, my friend’, the aspen said, ‘or surely you’ll be broke’

Then stepped in the other tree, wrought with good advice
‘There is a proverb that my father would tell, it will surely suffice.
This proverb has kept me once all my leaves have left.
That behind all the uncertainty, there is a reason for the theft.’

To leaves it has been given the job that they should land
It is to the tree the occupation to simply know and stand
That all things have their season, the simple and the grand
It is only to remember, your leaf shall be again

-John D. Stoll

  1. Lori Johns
    October 20, 2008 at 10:40 am

    I love this.

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