Letting Go

I am thinking about trees this morning,

about the grace with which they
accept the season,

the what-is that is right now.

They do not wrestle,

(as do I)

with deciding when to relinquish 

that which has served them 

so well, 

but does so
no
longer.

As the cold comes calling,

and the daylengths shorten,

(as I clutch and cling
to the light)

as their metabolism slows
and the autumn winds batter,

they silently
surrender
that which
they
cannot
keep.

And here is their 

sustaining secret.

Their letting go
(so difficult for humans)

provides the blanket
that feeds their roots
and dormant buds

that become the promise
of new growth
when their sap awakens,
and rises
once again,

pushing forth new leaves,
and new life,

into the spring
of the
coming
year.