Leafs

The leafs on the trees speak to me like a soft blanket on my skin, becoming one with my thought.

They're short lived but yet live the longest life they know.

 They cling to their tree like a toddler cleaves to his mother for security and love.

The wind violently tempts them to let go and be free like the devil tantalizing Jesus to eat.

They change and like the time cannot be reversed.

Oh how I long for the life of a leaf, but is it that different than my own?