I Step on a Crunchy Leaf

I step on a crunchy leaf. 

And then another. 

Moving deeper into the falling forest

And the silence is broken 

By the crackling rhythm.  

Each step I take crushes the leaves

Further into decay. 

One stride, one footfall closer

To returning to the earth.

As we all do. 

As we all must. 

At first glance, the woods seem rusted and cluttered,

Carrying the debris of the seasons come before. 

But the truth is, each skeletal tree has its place. 

And the complex earth is as delicate as the frost on the foliage. 

I try to tread lightly, but the weight of my walk breaks through the leaves, down through the dirt, cracking the bedrock, shaking the foundation that holds up the morning dew and the billion year old continents. I’ve made ripples in a silent pond, reversed the river currents and shattered the floor of the sea. I scramble to catch each shard of the falling sky and flail while trying to hold together the great chain of being. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the obliteration of a world that was already broken.

I don’t know when the leaves changed

And began to fall. 

It’s happened before and will happen again. 

I tried to stop and notice, but it happened so gradually.

Then all at once. 

All I can do is keep walking. 

Slower every year. 

By Michael McPhie