This is a leaf, but not just a leaf, with colours of carmine and gold.
Rusted by the tears shed of a dying season and burned from the breath of dragons, it lays in evidence of an end and in wait of nothing.
I look closer now and my mind races in creative dreams of all that I see. For beyond the damp, cold material of life’s final breath, I see the beating heart of the world.
I see rock, molten with fire, as it oozes in cascade from life’s broken crust. This is the spear of Helios as it threads morning curtains to pierce the gloom of a shadow’s heart.
Acres of corn beneath burning skies open to meadows of saffron and lime. I am walking avenues of apricot, lined with the olive of willow, as I bridge oceans of lust and flame.
Chestnut and chocolate come together in a delicious tangle of temptation amidst banks of scarlet and jonquil.
I see no leaf, but autumn’s dream, as I wander by swollen streams in fields of straw. I breathe the misty air of a chill October’s day and see light from a morning star.
This is not a leaf but a lacy wing of gilded feathers or a pebble of amber in copper seas. This is life’s great wonder, nature’s finale, and a testament to living.
This is a leaf.