under drops, under clouds,
in the air, toward the ground,
and in that moment brief between,
drifting. Ever so slowly.
like a leaf, once so green,
then so bright and to be seen—
but now so faded, brittle, brown:
free at last to be lowly.
not unwilling, never wronged,
neither fatefully drawn along,
but for good—it’s for the earth!
It’s to my source that I go wholly.