Jumping into leaves--
the wonder of crackled gold swirling about,
whispering the secrets of autumn
as they dance in celebration.
Such reds, such yellows, such muted browns
rustling in the wind in double sound
with child's laughter.
"My leaves!" she cries in rapture,
tossing the leaves about her.
"My pretty pretty leaves!"
and in a rush of life
runs headlong into leafy glory.
We cannot stop time
from blowing in.
We can only learn from the trees
who know how to live
by abandoning self
with determined fire.