What if autumn leaves were sins, hurts, regrets
Stripped of power
Falling lifeless to the ground
Their colors a promise
Of all things being made new
Better, bolder, brighter
Then every stem, vein-each particle
Returns to dust
Nourishing the ground,
Calling roots to dig deeper
Seeds to sprout
What if a bare tree, mistaken for dead,
Were warmed by the sun
So that branches once barren
BURST
With green, new life
I was
I am
I am becoming
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