Once they make their minds up,
the leaves on the trees in the forest grow
at lightning speed in springtime.
Sometimes it takes them a while to get started,
but that’s true for all of us,
as we ready for new growth in our lives.
And for all of us,
including the leaves waving to us from high above,
adolescence is an awkward time–
some say, an in-between time,
when we can’t quite decide
whether to be a caterpillar or butterfly.
Each leaf a magical photosynthetic factory,
giving so much unselfishly to something higher;
something more deeply rooted,
something touching the sky, and yes
something that goes beyond itself
to create a forested world,
sheltering even those without leaves.
So, I too, like many poets before me,
pay tribute to the leaves,
towering above us, but always there
grasping sun drops,
and forever waving hello.
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Poetic Alchemist 
Thanks so much Dan, Aurora, Paul, Andrew, Floots, and Nasra for your kind comments. They are much appreciated by me.
Voice is very powerful. I believe the beauty of poetry unfolds when it is verbalized. A poem’s resonance becomes known only when given voice.
I really enjoyed this one…. I hope you are well
i love these thoughts and it was great to hear you reading
thank you
What would we do without leaves?? 🙂
I share your facination with leaves and trees, since childhood. Nice new site, very clean and readable look.
Hi Don. There’s an appealing trait to your reading that I won’t specifically mention because I don’t want to make you self-conscious, but I will say I enjoyed this. 🙂 Nicely done.
What a voice! Nice!
Thanks so much, Polona. I appreciate your comment.
ah, the magic of leaves… love it!
Thanks Pat. Hope you are well.
“…grasping sun drops…”, love it!!