The Nomadic Leaf


I see my life as a nomadic leaf. Many miles forward and up the mountain, a water wheel turns to catch the falling water, the weight of caught power pressing these letters into the screen before me.

Each day I catch the light of the sun, and feel the pull of the soil, and each day I condense these rhythms into a song sung to others, which they pay for in kind.

Yesterday I stood, before a class of many, before those who had chosen to learn, and those that did all that learning entailed.

I said that I had stood before others, of whom they could trust, but asked that they take me for no more than what I had said to them.

I said that there is truth in volumetric interaction, that by connecting the overlapping spaces that define our world and that by doing so accurately, the truest metaphors we know could be aptly applied.

The food I offered to them was not suitable for me, it was the nitrogenous mixture of raw earth air and matter from which my life form evolved, but it was a pleasure to see absorbed.

I sit now, red robed, with a purple flower blooming in my bedroom, literally.

Good night,

-, 3/16/2013