The Last Dance of a Falling Leaf

I yawn and stretch against the call of a bigger world and I am no longer wrapped around myself but something new. The wind and air on my flesh is exhilarating as warmth creeps in and spreads across my skin. With increased urgency, I unfurl and stretch across the backdrop of a blue sky, and for the first time I am not alone. Glorious knowing arises within me. It is new and it is old. “Yes,” my soul whispers. It is my destiny to bask and drink in its light. This I know. A familiar sweetness flows through my cells. They thirst with anticipation and delight of this surging, sweet and sticky. I beg, “Sweet nectar, fill me with your bliss!”. I flutter and dance in the wind, and the larger I grow the more graceful and fluid my dance becomes. I delight in this new way of being in the world as a gentle tickle begins to grow from within me. A giggle rises up and consumes every inch of my form. I laugh under the feet of a thousand footed caterpillar, and I know that this joy is love.

From above, a remarkable beating upon my skin like a drum. Pitter patter pitter patter, as wetness falls upon me and rolls to the ground. Ahhhhhhhhhh! This life is sweet and rich and delightful. I can’t help but expand and expand and expand, as the caterpillar dangles beside me on my lifeline branch in his silken cocoon. I feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. We are one, the caterpillar and I. We are a necessity. Together until the day comes when the world shakes and my neighbor chrysalis cracks. The caterpillar is no more. I feel the rush of air as he flies away to another life. “Goodbye sweet friend!” I call after him with a lingering cry.

The days are quiet again.

I pass my time this way. With sun and moon and rain drops and caterpillars turning into butterflies until a slow heaviness crawls across my senses. Yellow, orange, and red it creeps and grows within me. I’m tired. I’ve grown heavy and brittle and stiff and I no longer dance with the same fluid grace. This is more than I can carry this mortal call of the earth, and I begin the march toward succumbing. I know in the quickly dying cells of my self strums the sweet song of my final dance. My only task is to let go, and so goes the fear. “Let go and be heavy,” I hear this internal urge. “Let go and be free.” And I do. I let go of the stern grasp of the only home I’ve known, and as I do, it begins. The most rapturous dance of all! Lighter and lighter I grow as the heaviness slips away. I vibrate with a new and long lost intensity and abandon. I twirl and twirl and twirl. “I am a dervish!” I call to the world. The end grows near, and I become quiet again. Silently I float, and for the first time in a long time, something new. I am still, and in this magical stillness a new understanding arises. “I too am a caterpillar. I too am a butterfly, and this, this is only the beginning,” and I sink into a cold, damp embrace. Ready to begin again.