Slowly, it detached itself from the branch,
just as a butterfly does its cocoon no longer needed;
there was once a connection.
But there it fell, so quietly and calmly;
brown, crispy, crinkled now and not like the rest that were beautiful and green,
for it is time to wither away and to fall;
but while doing so, is very poised and at ease, as if longing and wishing for this moment.
Gracefully, it strokes the cool crisp wind as it succumbs peacefully to the ground.
But there it lies, hopeless…
as, It became I !
I now must breathe life and remember my foliage!
I must blossom from my hurt,
from my pain, and
I must begin to shear so I can prune and pare.
This is the beginning of my repair,
as
I AM AN ACORN NOW!
My re-watering must begin and the re-planting has to resurface,
As…
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