“Hello,” the leaf seems to say.
“I’m separate from the rest of the branches,
But that’s okay.
I see a different view than they do.
They enjoy the clouds, yes,
But I enjoy the ground.
It sounds boring, but it’s not.
I’m the first to see hikers as they go by,
And I count the ripples in the rocks
That they skip across the lake.
And when the trails are bare
I watch the insects scurry by,
And sometimes a squirrel,
And many, many birds.
And I see the lake lick the shore
And I see the ground change
With every wave.
My brothers and sisters above
Might not understand the beauty I see.
They’re used to clouds.
And that is fine.
I, truthfully, don’t understand clouds
The way they do.
So we might not understand each other,
But we do, after all, still understand beauty.
And isn’t that enough?”
Copyright Sarah Davidson 2020