he’s sitting there waving, yearning to be free.
He’s attached to a branch that’s attached to a trunk,
which is attached to some roots that are deeply sunk
sunk deep into the ground, in order to live.
And so the twig thinks, “What I wouldn’t give...
to be up in the air flying high in the sky,
not a care in the world, just wish I could fly.
This really does suck, I’m ever so near,
some day will it happen? Maybe some year?”
There was a leaf attached to the twig;
as far as leaves go he was kinda big,
but it was late in the year, the season was fall;
his days were numbered, just a few left at all.
All day and all night he would hear the twig whine
then one day he stopped and said, “Do you mind?
Any day now, I’ll lose my grip,
which will begin my final trip.
Sure I’ll be flying, but not on my own,
I’ll be carried the way the wind’s blown.
And nothing can stop me from going down
to my final resting place somewhere on the ground.
And all while that happens, you’ll be alive,
not totally free but for years you’ll survive,
through countless summers with sun and with rain,
getting taller and taller again and again.
Leaves like me will come and go;
but higher and higher you’re going to grow.
So can you please stop, stop whining out loud?
At least for a moment, so I can be proud
of all that we’ve done and all that we’ve seen
from when I was a bud until I turned green;
when we soaked in the sun and soaked in the rain
and hung on to each other when the storms were insane!
We’ve done much together, you and I,
but now it’s time where I say good-bye,
I’ve served my purpose; I’ve completed my task,
I’ve done what I could, no more left to ask.
I’ve turned yellow and orange and red,
now it’s time to fall into my bed.
Thank you, dear twig, though I know you’re not free,
but you see without you, there would be no me.
And I’m thankful for you, just as you are,
and as I fall, know I’ll never be far.
And with that the leaf let go, with hope in his mind,
that the twig would discover that in due time,
when the snows were gone and springtime was here,
that the twig will be needed once again next year.
There will be a new leaf, starting out as a bud,
and way down below, deep into the mud,
his old friend, the old leaf, has found a new cause,
for new life is found, there is never a loss.
We all have a purpose and we all have a place
called the circle of life, so full of grace.
A true circle with no beginning, no end,
and so the twig learned something from his friend.
“I guess nothing in life is totally free,
for I’m dependent on others and they’re dependent on me,
for I couldn’t be a twig if there wasn’t a tree,
and thanks to my friend I finally see...
...that life without life just cannot exist,
and life without life would end in a mist,
each life has a purpose, and each life has a place,
called the circle of life, full of grace.”
