Email Poem

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Poem

They tell me to let it go
Thoughts leaves on a stream
In the grove of trees
Lies my willow golden
Blown by winds and rain
By a reaching brook
Leaves butterflies descending
Pacific take these wings
In each leaf that falls
Lies a thought disowned
My soul hoping to lay down
On a raft of fallen leaves
I let go of all my precious
Till I am bare in winter
The seasons concluding
My chiffon hair denuded
Pointless to hold summer 
When leaves on a stream fall
Carry all my failures away
Carry all my forgiveness
Till only branches remain
A weeping skeleton bereft
In the grove the axe swings
Seeds for the new year adrift
Far and near hibernating
My seeds herald the way
To the ocean we all go
Leaves on a stream churn
Branches cut from the trunk
The last stem won’t let go
Let me hold on to one more 
My dress too bare to bear
Winter is the axe man
In the autumn of youth 
I hold on to leaves leaving
Ashamed of bare branches
In the grove of trees
In the autumnal gold 
We will all be sticks 
Set the last thought free
Rest my soul on it
However precious
Embrace the cut
Ride to the ocean
Without dressing
Without a thought

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