Wherever they are gathered,
they are sure to draw attention to themselves.
They are unable to avoid the same eventual malady
but their symptoms are beautiful to behold.
They are painters of great landscapes,
yet challenge painters to capture their colors.
Their greatest moments come during their downfall.
And our rejuvenation comes with their rebirth.
They are the harbingers of memories
of when we climbed among them.
Yet they harbor children in their earthy smell and dampness
before they return again to the earth from the pyre.
They are from various branches of the same order
and keep their life force locked in large cells,
Which escapes as the year wears on,
eventually killing the jailers, and battening down their homes.
But were they not to die,
they might never be born.
Were they not to mingle in the eddying winds,
they would remain quite content ,
but all the less noticed.
Regardless, wherever they are gathered,
they are sure to draw attention to themselves.
Humans be humble, lest we forget
the wonder of tree leaves.
i like how this poem lets me think its leading me one place but takes me somewhere completely unexpected.
well done, poet.
then you understand the poem and my intention.