Last Leaf on the Tree

An old country song,
By an old country artist.
Watching the seasons drift by,
Watching so many leaves fall.
Yellow, red, green, and brown;
Some ahead of nature’s time.

Staring out to the old cottonwood,
Shade leaves gone and bright sun in.
Nature’s cycle does its routine,
Guiding the changes of life.
No special leaf stands out,
But together such collective beauty.
Autumn ushers out so many,
Just as color changes explode.

Last leaf on the tree,
Alone but connected.
A lifetime of memories,
So much to have seen.
Spirits in the night,
Many Sun and Moons.

Hawks, Robins, and blue jays.
Coyotes, bobcats, and wolves.
Nature’s messengers of peace and hunt,
The cycles are on land and in the air.
Wind storms bring howling echoes,
Snow, rain, and sleet, their touch lingering on bark.
Spring’s bloom seems a distant memory,
Filled so many with hope and dreams.

Deer antlers lie on the ground beneath,
Making room for next year’s growth.
Water, energy, and nutrients,
A constant need for summer’s growth.
On Navajo and Pueblo historical lands,
Now a memory of the four directions,
Guiding balance and unity.

Last leaf on the tree,
Who will that be?
Still a bunch left,
Which leaf will be me?
Grateful another day,
To see the world’s bounty,
Grateful for this shared journey,
As branches hold fast, connected and free.