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Death to the Leaves
Death surrounds us,
Pulling us in closer,
To take a look and see,
What it holds in store for us.
For no living thing,
Can go without knowing,
The cold and cruel grasp,
Of the last stage.
But look at this,
Look and see,
For I just don't believe,
What is in front of me.
Golds and reds,
Yellows and oranges,
This is not what I thought,
That I'd see.
Nor is it what,
I was taught to believe,
That this is the last step,
From this world to the next.
No, and yet I still see beauty,
Of all kinds it surrounds me,
And I can't help,
The joy and love that fills me.
The scent like no other,
Of spice and warm things,
And just look and see,
All of the beautiful leaves.
Though they are dead,
They're no longer a healthy green,
They still cast onto me,
Their beautiful light and glory.
And I can't help but wonder,
Is this what death will truly be,
For this is not,
What I was taught to think.
Nice poem about the beauty of
Nice poem about the beauty of transformation. I have written a poem about death you may find inspiring.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Thanks!
Thanks for telling me about your poem, it was great.