The call of death is a call of love.
Death can be sweet if we answer it in the
affirmative, if we accept it as one of the
great eternal forms of life and transformation.
- Herman Hesse
As I was walking out to the mailbox to retrieve my mail, my eye was drawn to the blanket of fallen leaves at my feet. They had tumbled down from the old yellow maple in my dooryard and although my first thought was of raking, my next was to stop and listen to what they had to tell me.
Each little leaf was experiencing their yearly transformation in their own unique way. From a distance they may all seem the same but they were far from that. One held onto its summer green not quite willing to "call it quits", another blushed a hint of red...a last bit of beauty, while another seemed deeper into its ultimate decay.
For many, autumn speaks of death. The cessation of the lushness of summer. But each tiny leaf had its own poem to relate. How they embrace their own demise with graciousness and acceptance yet still determined to do it in their own way. They have all answered the call of death in the affirmative.
They, far better than I, understand the eternal transformation they are silently experiencing as I walk by barely cognizant of the drama at my feet. So much of life is like this. Perhaps it is time we open our minds to the subtle messages that surround us. Nature is gently tapping us on the shoulder and whispering in our ear. Can you hear it?