How many billions of leaves lay on the forest floor?
I’m attracted to one of them. Why?
I pick it up. Gingerly. It’s dry and fragile. I put it in my pocket.
And hope that it does not turn to dust there.
It joins other found objects brought home to ponder.
Bones, bark, stones… attracted to their hue, texture, form, hidden stories…
Over days, weeks, months, years, I watch them.
They seem to my eyes as songs to my ears.
We change together. I see them differently. As I hear songs differently.
As the light changes, or the point of view changes.
As I change.
Do they continue to attract my attention? Why? Just me? or You too?
Universally attractive?
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