The leaves have been changing colors for a several weeks now, and many of them are starting to fall. I was walking up the walk which leads to my front porch steps yesterday, when I saw a single leaf fall to the ground. That one leaf had a lot of meaning.
Everything that lives has and end time. We begin to perish as soon as we are born. An unknown expiration date is stamped upon our souls as soon as we arrive, only known for certain by our Lord. Much like the trees, we grow. We develop branches which extend in the many directions of our existence. When the time is just right, we shed. Our many parts endure suffering and consume nourishment. We withstand the changing seasons. After all of those things that have shaped us, broken our branches, weathered our existence and exhausted our energy are complete, we fall. We return to the earth.
Like the falling leaves and branches that fall, and like the tree that dies, the materials are used. Leaves are the words that we have left. They fall onto others and become the ground in which they will grow. The wood and leaf become the soils for others to take root in. The memories. Lessons. The good and bad. What we are leaving becomes someone else’s. When new roots are embedded deep within the falling of yesterday’s life, it too develops its own.
What kind of nourishment do you leave?
Many people grow under a canopy of larger trees. Oppressed. Malnourished. They are always fighting for air. For light. For right. They are rooted so closely to others that the life is robbed by the greater amongst them. The big tree grows higher, drowning out the weaker. The greater roots run deep, relentlessly choking the one who gasps for life. The larger won’t part its canopy, and refuses to grow in a different direction. It hates its neighbor. Its many leaves fall upon the small. Its branches fall on the weak, breaking the struggling arms that reach out in desperation. Once the large falls, the little is taken down with it. When the grand one dies, the fragile one suffers. The whole life of the lesser was a time within eternity, wasted.
Our time is much like the leaf observed yesterday. We start, exist and fall. We leave our mark. We become someone else’s ground. We nourish new life. We have a time in existence, made possible by our Creator. We will fall.
What will you do with your time here?