Another poem from last spring, finally completed. Though currently titled “The Leaf,” that doesn’t quite speak to me so I may re title it down the road…

The Leaf – poem by Enrique Martinez

Turning, twisting, tumbling;
Riding an unpredictable current.
A dance without music;
Without rhythm,
Without rhyme.
Flailing about aimlessly
On a rudderless course.
No longer tethered to its branch,
A confused, uncharted path unfolds.
Each new gust
A defiance of gravity;
Taking it far, far away
From the tree from which it spawned.
No roots,
Though gnarled and grotesque,
No roots anchor it.
No seeds,
Providing clarity of purpose,
No seeds granting it hope.
Tossed to and fro,
Without compass or bearing,
Guided only by uncertainty;
Searching in vain
For some safe harbor.
At the mercy of every breeze,
Regardless of origin.
Regardless of direction.
The horizon,
Having long been lost,
Gives no hint of orientation.
Spinning, twirling, plummeting.
As the wind dies,
Its decent hastens.
Spiraling ever downward,
Until, at last,
The long, tortuous journey
Comes to an abrupt end.
But no sanctuary is to be seen.
No oasis, no haven.
Only a vast, empty wasteland
With soil blushing of crimson.
The wind carries upon it
The whispers and moans
Of the regrets of a lifetime,
And with mocking tones
Imparts the reminder
That it is alone.
Alone, and decaying
In the spring rains,
The summer heat,
The autumn wind.
Winter’s icy grip brings with it
The chilling refrain:
A life and love longed for,
But never realized.
The time and opportunity for both
Has long since passed,
And all that is now left to do
Is to cease,
And be relinquished unto the ether.
Without fanfare.
Without tribute.