Fallen

When all around you is winter, it's folly to grow shoots,

Let go of the leaves and flowers, just focus on your roots.

In summer the leaves are assets- they give you bread and wine,

In winter sans the sun's sweet help, losing them would be so fine. 

Oh behold the twist of fate, they are now a liability,

By losing water, to leave you dead, is their new ability.

When you brush aside, let leaves fall, is that being opportunistic?

Are you ashamed, of your giving up, as you're reduced to a naked stick?

I might be dead on the outside, I am growing my roots deep,

I know I'll welcome leaves again, so on their passing I don't weep.

I use this time to build reserves, I trust the wheel will turn,

The fallen leaves become compost, that's the way I churn.

When all around you is winter, surely, the spring is round the block,

For all my bravado and wisdom, the fallen leaves still mock.