Leaving

My mother left us like a birch leaf. 
She let go early —
then drifted to the earth and landed softly.
Bit by bit she crumbled
and settled into the dark and fertile ground.
She was gone before we really knew who she was.

My father didn’t die so easily.
He clung tenacious to the branch like an oak leaf;
toughened by the wind and cold,
until he finally left us on a white winter day
settling in stark contrast to the snow on the ground.
He was well known by us
and his leaving was stubborn and strong.

When I die,
I hope I can let go like a maple leaf,
blazing bright yellow, orange or red.
Delighted by the sun and dancing in the wind
until I am caught
in the open hands and hearts of those who love me
and pressed between the pages of a beloved book.


Image: Diane Perazzo 2017

May these words bring truth
and healing through open hands and hearts.
And then, let it flow back into our Mother Earth
for the love of all her beings.


Discover more from Diane Perazzo

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

20 Comments

  1. Very moving, Diane! I gave away a beloved dictionary yesterday (the equivalent of a book of poems for me) and in it we found two perfect red maple leaves. I remember putting them in there about 10 years ago with the intention of sending them to Hakim’s kids in France – then forgot, of course. Our two lives do intertwine at times, don’t they? J.

  2. Thanks dear Gemini for this exquisite poem!

    Leaves….leaving….. such a contrast between your mother and father’s way of leaving. I love the heart opening way you write of being a blazing map

  3. Really beautiful and poignant. Leaving has a way of doing that, doesn’t it? Thank you for sharing with me!

    Be well,
    Kate

    Kate Stockman
    KateStockmanDesigns.com

    I hope you are having a delightful day!

  4. Greetings Diane
    My mom went quickly also. She had been recovering nicely from a heart attack. I was living in Chicago when I got the phone call from my uncle. Because I was at work, I couldn’t release my grief.
    The funeral was kind of strange where my dad, my two sisters, and myself were laughing and carrying on before the service started. I think my mom enjoyed it.
    My dad died a slow death, years in the making, from diabetes and heart problems, dementia. His funeral had few people. My dad was not a people person, not a gentle person, but I saw him sitting by himself in silence looking out the front window watching the birds.
    He later went to a nursing home where he eventually died.

    1. Thank you so much for sharing your experience, Michael. ❤️ I love that you and your sisters were laughing at your mom’s funeral, and I’m sure she appreciated that! My dad sounds exactly like yours. ❤️💦

      May we learn from the passings of our parents and use this knowledge to make our own leavings more significant to ourselves, and those we leave behind. 🌀🖤

  5. Beautiful images, Diane. I, too, want to be like a maple leaf, bright and tough as I surrender to the changing of the seasons….

  6. So powerful! Your poem also reminds me of a haiku years ago, a different reflection on the leaf motif…

    gentle spiral down
    called to dark, nourishing ground
    a leaf carves her path

Leave a reply to sistahkate Cancel reply