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Whenever I see a dead leaf
Gracefully fall down towards
The rich body of the land
I remember the lithe physique
Of a ballerina in her pink tutu
Jumping up in the air
And quietly goes down like a Swan,
Poised, grand, & regal,
As if the dead leaf completely
Trusts the ground that will catch her.
The grass is also there
To cushion her fall.
I wonder if it's bliss the leaf feels,
Suspended in air as it glides down
To her destination, feeling safe.
What does she feel when she becomes
One with Earth again?
I closed my envious eyes and
I think about how different it was
Falling for you.
Falling for you.
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*Picture from davintosh
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