04-21-2013, 11:40 AM
Can I be this leaf which falls to me?
It flutters rather violently, that I can see.
But that is not all, for I hear it too,
Softer than anything I once knew.
So may I embrace it; this fragile thing?
I always wonder what it shall bring.
But am I this leaf, still falling to me?
It seems so perfect that it cannot be.
I know if I tried, copy it I cannot do,
But it looks my way and asks, “Who are you?”
“Why, certainly not an angel who may sing.”
But there behind me, I see grow a lonely wing.
It flutters rather violently, that I can see.
But that is not all, for I hear it too,
Softer than anything I once knew.
So may I embrace it; this fragile thing?
I always wonder what it shall bring.
But am I this leaf, still falling to me?
It seems so perfect that it cannot be.
I know if I tried, copy it I cannot do,
But it looks my way and asks, “Who are you?”
“Why, certainly not an angel who may sing.”
But there behind me, I see grow a lonely wing.