The Falling Leave

I am the charter of winds

that caress the naked trees.

I’m from the lonely caves of the highest mountains.

I am the whos and haha

of a person soul,

yet conscience of another.

I’m from the abdomen of a strong breast that rawrs

loudly to defend her cubs.

I am the gentle winds that breaks the tree in two.

I am the winds of myth

trapped in a bag -

Release me traveler, you’ll would see -

I’ll send you back north against the seas.

I am the ocean’s tides that willow on the waves of fish

   down deep below

I’m from the bubbles that pop in the surface just inches

   from blowing blue.

I am a notebook that open and closes

in the listening ear of nature.

I am a journey written in notebook with a long tail on a torso,with

A Beginning

 A End

  And a story to tell.

I am simply limbs scatter across nations.

I am made from the napkin and cloth people use to wipe their tears.

I am the eye piece - glasses are used to see throught.

I am a broken tree just lost, looking to the sky, laying down on grass with a notebook at hand.

I am leaf-less as I get taken away in a shredder machine,

Saying goodbye to the scenes - as my notebook falls from my broken hands on the  swooshing green.

What Am I? I was just a Falling Leave just waiting for Your Help.