The sheer beauty of the colour of emptiness
be it in the silence of the mind or in the silence of the heart.
How I yearn to be as hushed as the autumn leaves which fall
having quietly lived their tenure with
no expectations of appraisals and performance bonuses.
In the stillness of the dawn, another leaf takes birth
the tree quietly bearing motherly pains and ignorant of delivery rooms
unaware of protein shakes or diet plans
surviving on what food the period has to offer.
The stoic nature of trees to let go of the leaves it nursed
standing on its own, waiting to rebloom with no pressured deadlines.
Such a beautiful fragrance it offers, the lull of the barren autumn
neither gloating nor belching in what it had,
dispensing every hue and aroma
and yet confronting a unique sense of fulfilment.
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