The Last Leaf of Autumn

In the waning light of a dusky sky,
When whispers of winter draw ever nigh,
There hangs from the branch, so frail yet bold,
A single leaf, in hues of marigold.

Once vibrant and lush, it danced in the breeze,
Beneath summer’s sun, amidst laughter and ease.
It swayed with the laughter of children at play,
A witness to moments that melted away.

Through the lush tapestry of spring it was born,
With petals unfolding, a new life adorn.
It basked in the warmth of the sun's gentle kiss,
In gardens of color, it found its pure bliss.

Then came the summer, with long, golden days,
When the world burst alive in sun’s radiant rays.
The leaf felt the joy in the warmth of the air,
But time, like a river, flows swift and unfair.

With whispers of change, as the days started waning,
Came a chill in the night, and the winds were refraining.
The trees began shedding their gowns of deep green,
A canvas transformed, like a painter unseen.

And as autumn arrived, with its palette so bright,
The leaf took a moment to relish the sight—
A tapestry woven in amber and rust,
In the stillness of beauty, it learned to trust.

Yet now, as the twilight creeps closer each day,
The leaf knows its time in the sun fades away.
It clings to the branch, though the winds start to sigh,
With a heart full of memories, it dares not to fly.

“Oh, fragile existence, how fleeting the grace,
As I linger in silence, embracing my place.
From the cradle of spring to the autumnal glow,
I’ve tasted the seasons, the ebb and the flow.”

Yet beneath the surface, a whisper of fear,
For the chill of the night is the end drawing near.
But the leaf, wise and weary, takes pause in its plight,
Reflecting on moments that danced in the light.

“It’s not just the holding, but knowing when to part,
To surrender with grace, to open the heart.
For the beauty of life is not in the cling,
But in embracing the change that each season will bring.”

So with a last shimmer, it bows to the tree,
A testament written in vibrant decree.
With a flick of the breeze, it releases its hold,
As it twirls to the ground, in a dance uncontrolled.

A soft whisper echoes, the winds hum a tune,
As the last leaf of autumn embraces the moon.
In its fall lies a promise, a circle anew,
For the cycle continues, and life must ensue.

So let go, dear heart, of the burden you bear,
In each ending, a seed waits to blossom and share.
For though winter may silence the earth in its sleep,
Spring whispers of hope, and the promises we keep.

-Khushi Kaul