Death in Thinking

My feet till the rivers path

The water gives little protest

To the intrusion

And gurgles in polite address

A creature struggles to maintain.

Its element is quite unclear

Eagerly drowning

It must be choking, but I see no mouth

My hand grazed gently

A leaf lying brown and recluse

The curves

Still present but the life entirely absent

To judge that it had fallen

Felt concisely appropriate

For there it lay

Amidst the ruin of its family

An entire generation is dead

The tree bends low

Yearning and,

Not yet knowing that he will bud anew

You think it would remember

I know that I could not forget a second birth

Exultant joining of,

life and earth, until the next consummation