The first leaf of autumn

When the seedling struggled naked
Against torrential weather, changing seasons, pests
The soil to which it was indebted
Air to breathe, water to quench thirst, sunshine to guide
Weren’t enough to fight its battles

Then the first leaf, sprang from it in spring
Wary and careful at first, but eventually trusting
Intertwined its life with the seedling, so did the latter
Inseparable as a pair and formidable when to stand by each other
They bore ripping hurricanes with their intimate bond
Seasons changed, came the scorching summer
The leaf toiled for them, the seedling gave it shelter
Leaving the world in the greenest of envy
Could there be something as implicit
For their life blood became one, betrothed by being
Together, as branches came, and as more leaves did too

But the soil’s debt beckoned the seedling
Which was a plant by now, less reliant on the leaf
Lesser on everything else too, but the soil was where its roots lay
The choice was made, with a dilemma for appearances
It grew, but more callous of the leaf
Which feared that the bond, was weakening at the node

Canker dotted the leaf, and the sun bleached it dry
Even flying specks of earth made its filthy lamina cry
All it appealed to, was the plant
Not to fight those, but to summon its ramparts
To rejuvenate and heal the leaf, which still held resilient
But in vain, the plant spread its branches rather
Deepened its roots in a claim to be a better shelter
Indifferent to the leaf, for which it was to live

The lifeblood in them clotted at the node
Once their elixir, now it became a wall
The crestfallen leaf clung, unsure of its fall
Resisted the wintry cold, as the plant melted its frost now and then
It even resisted when a breeze bellowed along
Willing to make it fresh, carry in its arms strong
The leaf gave in, swayed and danced, in the caresses of the breeze
But wanting instead, the plant to dance with its passion
It dawned soon on the leaf that the wind wasn’t its to own
So it swayed and danced no more, rather let it pass

Soon it withered, dry, yellow red
Hoping the plant to care, but in vain again to dread
It thought best to let go, so fell
Away from the plant, away from its roots
Far away, in its own lonely bed

The plant wondered, its leaves did whisper
Of the infidel first leaf, what it revealed to that bower
The plant was shaken, but did retain its vigour
The first leaf was special no more, the plant thought better
The leaf knew it couldn’t retreat
Still it wanted to be at the plant’s feet
To even rot and nourish it, when it fell in autumn
Which, was unacceptable anymore

Either lived, to become strong, aloof
Never daring or caring to look back and think
All the plant saw, so did the world
Was the leaf fly with the breeze in wild abandon
Not why it fell, why it weakened at the node
In autumn

It wasn’t about right or wrong, it was what was meant to be
The plant grew thicker and retained its purpose
To fruit, to flourish, to branch and to strengthen its roots
The first leaf isn’t the last, there are more leaves to come
The leaf did live too for greater purposes to see
To shine as a model in a pantheist’s herbarium
Cause it isn’t the last leaf too for the first leaf of autumn