Leaving Undeparted
The leaves of trees, they come and go,
Arrive in Spring and then fall away.
In between the whitened ends of years,
They bring fresh hopes that will not stay.
Rains will fall and winds will blow,
And weakened stems will wave then crack.
From up high to sodden ground,
What once was, will not come back.
Barren branches stretched to the sky,
Darkened arms that choose not to grasp.
The storms pass through the twisted hands,
As sands through fingers that cannot last.
Security gone with life standing still,
Waiting for hope once again to return.
But as seasons come and go each year,
Things that grow, can also burn.
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It's definitely that time of year. We still have a few leaves hanging on yet. We are in that weird kind of second summer phase right now.
Ouch! I am left with a sense of impending doom, no way out. Year after year. Your imagery evokes a man, whitened first with birth and then again with old age. Grasping, not able to hold. As I head into winter, your poem brings me no hope for spring's re-arrival. It's the end. Very windswept and barren.
Yes just like seasons, we also rise and fall that's why there's always hope when we feel low and we shouldn't change our attitude when we at high because day's changes.....
Connection of season with our life
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Nothing under the moon lasts forever. Yet life is immortal through the relay of generations.
Time comes and goes, people arrive and others leave. Time moves forward, but there's always someone left behind to record what those ahead left behind. That's the impression the poem gave me.😇
change can be beautiful, not just loss