Leafmulch

For a silent moment
the leaf on the branch was starkly outlined
against the last light in the sky.
Then came the wind
untethering the world from its earthly bounds.
The leaf spun faster than a weather vane
flapping like the crumpled wing of an air-born insect.
A single floating leaf gliding
through the different strains of winds,
always lighting on higher currents, frantically
climbing towards the endless, deep purple sky.
The wind stopped, and

the leaf plunged.

I remained stone-like on the ground.

Half-man, half-leafmulch,
that with some drying out could simply flake off
until only the man was left, and what would mortal eyes
behold but a blinding light.
I shed my unchanging, vegetative body
and enter into the wind.
Lines:20