On the Nature of life

because of the somnambulate seed, swelling slightly, and sharing its secret with the earth...because of the fragile, flesh-hearted leaf force-feeling its way into a radiant amber glow...because of the tender, young sapling, stretching itself out with anxious ambition toward the red rising sun...because of the august, ancient cedar; its bitter-sweet smell still lingering in an apathetic afternoon air...because of a litany of little things you can't hold on to, now leaving tired, old limbs...because of the last, lone leaf, hurrying off in the twilight, to find its place of rest with the others...