The leaf grows on the branch of the tree,
Green and full of life.
It clings to its mother,
Loving,
Nurturing.
Until it is Autumn.
The leaf becomes red,
Then orange,
Then gold.
It has reached its full beauty,
And it is perfect.
But then it falls,
And it hits the ground,
Soon to be blown away from its mother,
Its love.
And soon the leaf has gone,
Somewhere else,
And it grows just as perfectly.
