I sit watching
The brown leaves
That decorates
The field.
How divine they look?
I am in awe
Inspiring beauty
Of dry leaves
Lying bare
On the grass.
Are they dead?
I asked repeatedly.
Nay.
I don’t think so.
How can the dead
Cast an attraction on us.
The brown leaves
Dried though
Carries within
The metamorphosis
Of nature’s law
To beautify
And decompose
With dignity.
Nature’s ingenuity
A genius hidden
In the dryness of the leaves.
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