Those Baran Leaves Poem by ashok jadhav

Those baran leaves that cling to dying trees,
Once drank the sun and danced in youthful air;
Now dry and pale, they whisper memories
Of seasons kind and days without despair.
They crack beneath the weight of passing feet,
Unnoticed signs of life that once was whole;
Yet in their fall there lies a truth discreet—
All fullness bends to time's unyielding toll.
Still, in their brown and broken, fragile grace,
They teach the art of letting glory go;
No grief remains upon their withered face,
For loss prepares the ground for what must grow.
O baran leaves, in silence you impart
The strength of change, the wisdom of the heart.