A Letter from Windy

The color has drained from the leaves
Yet still, they cling to the tree
If the tree is to survive at all
They all must fall, to make way for green
No one has ever seen dead leaves
Sustain a growing
The hard times are dead leaves
If you let them
Those few leaves
Will either starve or poison your whole beautiful tree
The judgements will pour like rain
Do not sweat the wet
It will only feed your strength
And eventually
Make you green again
Let the whispers and gossip
Blow on me
Then use me to cleans your tree
To sever those toxic, hindering leaves
Do not let one dead leaf
Wilt and spoil your entire tree
Eventually, you will be free
And once you are
Like a bird, be ever-preening
Keep those shiny green leaves gleaming
Drop the dead leaves
And keep growing
The Breeze

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