of wayward souls and falling leaves

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
a short anecdote about the appreciation of nature and humanity.

Submitted: August 18, 2012

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Submitted: August 18, 2012

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  A single, dying leaf fell to the ground; the oak tree from whence it was dispelled felt nothing. It had leaves aplenty and as nature intended they would all fall away in the relentless winter to come. The lonely, decaying entity also did little to disturb the fermenting ground beneath. Its interests were consumed in the sun, and the rain, and the roots that it held for that thoughtless oak.
  When a single leaf falls and is not considered, does it make you sad? That a beautiful specimen of once rich grandeur and yet sweeping elegance must suffer the shortest of mortalities, must whither and decimate and be forgotten forever? Or not. For it was never considered.
  Does it make you sad that there are perhaps people in this world tormented by the same anonymity? Who live and die without a tether, or a branch, that misses their presence in its grasp; or eyes to see the beauty in their being. For life, nature, humanity, is wondrous; yet those lost souls, as bad luck swept them away in an icy gust of unforgiving tenacity, feel only the weight of a life that has never seemed to matter.
  Consider this. For every time you look, and see, and watch as a leaf falls to the earth, and you savour it’s last incredible display before it is consumed by earthen decay, you are seeing too the soul of that isolated, unremembered person; and by looking, and seeing, and watching its descent, that person matters, because their soul- for the briefest of moments- has touched you. And in return you have gifted them with purpose, with a moment that mattered. And you have restored them.
  Now consider this. For every decaying leaf that lies forgotten on the ground, but seen by eyes that looked, somewhere on this earth, a person’s purpose was restored.


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