Following the Leaves of the City

The sun broke through the grey, misty clouds on Thursday afternoon,
as I was biking through the city.

The bicycle paths were covered by the red and yellow leaves,

that were swirling around in the wind.

The reflections of the sun rays in the windows and the dancing leaves 

decorated the route making my tour bright and vivid.

The brances of wild vine streching up and to the sides along the red brickwall

brought  the beautiful poem of Sister Juliemarie to my mind:

Divine Vinedresser,
What lessons do branches on a vine teach?
Listen, they will tell you.

"I need to be:
well trained and
planted in drained soil.
Dig deeper the planting hole.

Place me in full sunlight and

let me lean on a trellis;

If not, since I am a creeper,

I will run wild and wind around anything convenient.

Prune me in the dormant season.

Make sure I remember always I am a branch, not the vine.

Follow these lessons and I will produce delicious fruit."



Sister Juliemarie Mc. Donald



The leaves are changing color to bright & yellow,

they're falling off and flying around,

painting the city to a beautiful patchwork quilt.

If the branches were holding on tightly to the leaves, not letting them fall off,

this beautiful patchwork would't decorate the ground.



Sometimes we may be holding on to something tightly

instead of letting it go.

As long as the branches are a part of the tree,

they will blossom again.

The spring will come and new buds will arise.

Following the leaves of the city 

reminded me of the importance of both

 holding on and letting go.