I thought the yellow leaf
Would fall off by itself.
It’s clinging, hanging on amidst
The fresh tender green shoots.
Something is born;
The yellow refuses to bow out – one day it will.
‘You need, not patience, but grace’, I tell myself.
The life that you helped bring into this world
Suffered its own disappointments
And you could not bear it. The young bounce back,
But you cling to the pain that was.
‘How could it happen to me, to us?’
I can’t get the yellow out of my mind.
The pain brought you closer to life, grace it.
Everything in its own time, as death smiles through creation.
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