I picked a leaf up from the ground <br />and compared it to my hand. <br />Its veins were strikingly similar <br />and wondered was it planned <br />that all of life is connected <br />in ways we tend to forget? <br />The beauty of this connection <br />is startling and yet <br />I know that as the leaf withers away <br />others will take its place. <br />And I, like you my dearest friends <br />will also have to face <br />withering from gusts of wind <br />that make the dry leaf unseen. <br />likened to the gusts of wind <br />that will wipe our slates clean.<br /><br />Edwina Reizer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awareness-43/
