Do Drowned Leaves Dream?

the-magic-puddle-tara-turner

Do drowned leaves dream

of the lives they once lived in the sky

while living leaves ponder

the fate that awaits by and by?

Autumn Leaf (pngarts.com)

About mitchteemley

Writer, Filmmaker, Humorist, Thinker-about-stuffer
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38 Responses to Do Drowned Leaves Dream?

  1. Athira says:

    Powerful and thoughtful..

  2. And why do house sparrows still congregate in the conifer to squabble about the election?

  3. Chaya Sheela says:

    I love this poem full of wonder!
    Beautifully described, “Drowned leaves dream and living leaves ponder.”
    Best wishes.

  4. kindfeelings says:

    Lovely poem Mitch, everything goes back into the earth.

  5. And I reflect on my identity both as a drowned leaf and a living leaf….

  6. It’s not just a very good poem, but also a good question. Do leaves dream? I hope they do.

  7. Drowned leaves are leaves that have fallen–detached from the tree. So they’ve already been cut from their tether to life when they land in the water. Dead leaves, therefore, cannot drown. Dead leaves, being dead, also cannot dream.

    I imagine leaves emerging in the spring and experiencing the cool winds and rain of birth, the hot and sunny days of maturity, and the glorious color and appreciation of the last fleeting bits of warmth in Autumn before they fall. Being leaves, I would think they do not ponder the future because EVERYTHING they have experienced in their short lives has been new. They live in the moment and experience it in joy. The color they show might be an expression of thankfulness for all they have become and what they have undergone to that point.

    • mitchteemley says:

      I sense a rebuttal poem coming on, Rebecca. ;>)

      • The tingle of life,
        The breath of sweet air.
        The kiss of the sun on
        the buds still fair.
        The first stretch of life,
        Unfurling and green,
        The gentle rains come
        with drizzle unseen.
        The energy in
        The process of light
        Feeds roots and branches
        and gives oaks their might.
        And then when the sun
        begins to fade
        and the air turns cooler
        and we face unafraid
        the end of our span
        the change of our hue
        we celebrate now
        and we get what is due.
        Rest. Sleep.
        Fall and float
        We nourish the ground
        and make a warm coat.
        The roots dig down deep
        The creatures are fed
        Our colors will fade
        But we still serve when dead.

    • Considering they don’t have a soul, but since we don’t know for sure, perhaps they can dream, even though they are dead. The dead leaves afterlife?

  8. Ah, so profound? I think …

  9. Way too profound for so early in the day.

  10. murisopsis says:

    The drowned leaves become part of the river, lake, or stream. Then they add their experience to that of the water, hum and sing along with the fish and otters, and eventually become the mud…

  11. Lesley says:

    Beautiful poem and interesting comments . . . and that gorgeous photo!

  12. K.L. Hale says:

    How beautiful, Mitch. 🍁

  13. markbierman says:

    Nicely done, Mitch!

  14. Ann Coleman says:

    This reminds me of a chapter in the book “Bambi” by Felix Salten. (Nothing like the Disney movie.) In it, two leaves are still clinging to the tree, after so many have fallen. They’re discussing whether they’ll fall too, and each reassure the other that they still look fine and will make it through the Winter on the tree. And then one falls…..

  15. Very Zen Mitch. Food for thought on a Sunday. 🙂

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