A leaf can fall and—in its swirling path—
Do naught but twirl and make its curling way
Around the tree. Decisions made at last
Are better than those never made. The days
Are long; the nights are long. Whenever there
Exist decisions to be made, we slow
Ourselves. It's true that I have never dared
To quickly choose which way to fall. Who knows
What clever end awaits us. As the leaf
Falls to the ground, it knows the ground is all
There is for it. When I fall, I can't see
The ground; I watch the stars and I am awed.
When I convince myself to look straight down,
I let myself drift slowly to the ground.

© Emilia Perseo Samuel Gaspar

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