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  • Writer's pictureLeann Shamash

The Wind and The Leaf

This will probably be the first small story/poems about the wind as we approach Sukkot.

For now though, perhaps this is a teshuvah poem, a poem about mistakes and growth and repair.

Shannah tovah. May you be inscribed for a healthy year.

Once there was a wind

born in the south

or in the north or the west.

It was born into a grove of willows,

who drank from the river.

The hot sun was the wind's father

and the warm earth its mother.

Alone the wind hovered in the heat of morning,

invisible, but alive in the haze,

it was

barely a breath.

The wind floated upward


its movement uneven,

as a child's first steps can be.

As it danced upward the air grew warmer

the teasing wind teetered downward

and it met a small branch,

delicate and slender,

attached to it, many small green leaves

holding their mother’s arm,

obediently lined up.

And the wind twirled

and the branch fluttered,

an insignificant emerald tremor in the breeze.

And at that moment the universe changed

as a leaf was shaken free from his mother.

His brothers and sisters looked on

as he somersaulted to the warm earth below

and they trembled with sorrow for now they were imperfect,

their brother lay on the ground below them,

but this is the fate of some leaves.

And at that same moment

the wind learned

of his strength, of his power to make change.

And the wind mourned for what it had done,

for what was done in error,

for what was done in innocence.

Fallen leaves can never return.

They cannot be lifted back to

their mother’s open arms.

And after a pause,

the wind billowed and blossomed

and blew itself away.

As it traveled

it lifted the leaf

ever so gently from the ground.

The leaf nodded its farewell

as they continued on their spiral journey

for that is what winds and leaves must do.

And the leaf danced on the current

and the wind blew

as they continued their journey together.

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