A
The Leaf
-Ann B. White
The tree stood thick and tall, as it had for an entire age
When early spring produced a bud, a little leaf’s infant stage
The sun shone and rain fell, as the tiny green foliage appeared
Proof that winter had not vanquished the tree, as I had often feared
Hundreds and hundreds of other buds had emerged just like this one
All of them almost just alike, forming canopy shade from the sun
The bud grew into an elongated palm with thick green outstretched fingers
Through summer weeks of storms, heat and wind, the strong em’rald leaf still lingered
No breeze was too strong, no gale so violent that the leaf could not hold on
It was firmly attached to the age old oak that would weather the storm until dawn
And just when it seemed the indestructible blade would be able to live on forever
Summer turned to fall, and warmth turned to chill as if someone had switched a lever
The once stalwart frond wasn’t quite as strong, yet still clung on with all of its might
Yet no amount of desire to stay on the tree could save the leaf from its plight
Brilliant green began to fade, mixing gently with tinges of red
The leaf knew what awaited, the end of a season and winter’s bitter dread
All across the mighty wood gave way to the crimson hue
And though it would not last for long its final days wrought a beautiful view
The leaf grew more fragile with each passing day, its hold on the tree slowly weakening
The moisture was gone, the leaf’s edges were brittle as night’s chill was gradually deepening
The moment finally came, the leaf could no longer bear it, all it took was a bit of a gust
The leaf trembled and shook, let go of its grip and fell gingerly down to the dust
The barren oak did not hold the same glory once the leaves had gone their way
But the promise was there and had been proven true, the leaf would come back one day
So just like the leaf, our lives are begun as just a bud being born
But the days quickly pass and we find ourselves fading from strong to weary and worn
Our grip on this life begins to fail and we become fragile and brittle
Each passing day our bodies are aging and our colorful youth wanes a little
Until the day comes and a gust comes along that we are unable to stand
We depart from this life and fall to the dust but that’s the instant we feel His hand
Jesus gave us the promise, and paved the way so that we will live once again
There will be no more death, no more sorrow or pain in the life that will never end
Thank You Father, thank You Lord for Your gorgeous creation we see
May every detail and every season remind us of life yet to be
No matter our season, no matter our time, we will all fall like leaves from this stage
But to God be our praise, it will not be the last, death cannot keep us caged