Walking home from work recently, a small round leaf that was
being carried by the wind blew in my face and just before it fell to the ground
I caught it, I had no intention of examining the leaf the way I did but I found
that I was drawn to its beauty in a way one would not have expected.
This tiny
leaf had small bumps on it indicating that at some point in time it may have
been host to a party insects who might have made it their temporary home, it
was half yellow and half brown which meant that death had already taken place
and it was experiencing its final stage of withering.
The story this withering leaf told just by looking at it was
phenomenal; it had started out as a tiny bud enthusiastic to see the new big
wonderful world, enthusiastic about the unknown wanting to see it; and so as it
moved from a bud to a tiny leaf it opened itself to the process of
photosynthesis basking in the glow of the sun and taking in all the nutrients
it could from its mother plant.
With
each day it grew stronger, older and got exposed to several different variables
of the life it lived. Each vein going in a different direction; like out
stretched palms; fingers eagerly wanting to gently caress the face of
definiteness, the fingerprints of life tracing the contours of purpose.
There were nice warm days when the sun was happy and there
were days when he was so angry that he forced himself unto her causing bruises
and leaving her with sunburn scorches, the rain quenched her thirst, and the
wind allowed her to dance and feel free.
Sometimes all these variables combined
together brought her pain in the form of thunder storms and hurricanes twisting
and turning her and forcing her to become intimate with the ground. And at the end of it all when she could take
it no more when her time had expired and a new bud pushed its way through tough
bark wanting to see the world she had enjoyed with its pain and joys it was her
time to go; she had moved from varied shades of green to yellow she was
withering away and as she breathed her last breath the wind didn't just allow
her to dance and feel free this time it freed her.
I was so blown away by this leaf that I ended up taking it
home and placing it among the jewelry on the dressing table, it was to me a
treasured piece of jewelry that I didn't want to lose even if it was already
dead to the unimaginative dense minds of this world, the processes that had
taken place made me reflect on the fact that I was t the leaf enjoying all this
big beautiful, ugly world had to offer, its pains , its joys , thunderstorms
and hurricanes, the beauty of a starry
sky or the full moon, cool windy days and the summer’s sunshine.
I’m a rarity among women – I actually look forward to birthdays for the
main reason that they mean I am a year older (I love age) and hopefully many
moons wiser than I was the year before learning from life’s hiccups and
understanding that true strength often times means letting go and moving on
with true contentment not caring if the rest of the world can comprehend
it.
My being a rarity among my kind has allowed me to look at
this leaf with old eyes in that I am able to truly appreciate the process of
change ; change not only in the life span of the leaf but change among us .... The fact that no life is given to stagnation, appreciating days of ease and joy
and embracing struggles and pain for what they positively represent.
And so I salute the beauty of a withering
leaf.
