Tell me leaves .

Leaves , did you have this inkling ,

when young and soft and tender 

you bloomed in the branches ,

that some day this very wind 
which ripples with your laughter ,

will carry you to some unknown land .

Leaves , did you smile 

thinking of the red hues of autumn skies ?

Or shuddered ,

at the thought of the shortening days , 

and the trees bereft of you .

Have you ever pondered 

that in your legacy,

you won't even leave 

a speck of your shadow behind !

And the autumn chill will wipe away 

all the traces of your gentle soft murmur .

And now ,

when you are smouldering red ,
yellow and gold ;

when you are leaving all that behind

to which you clinged desperately ,
when you are embarking in a new journey 
on the wings of autumn ,

tell me leaves ,

do you feel a pang ? 

Or is it Freedom ?


                     meeta .