frenzied fall

it was a small leaf
pushed by a strong gust of wind
in a frenzied fall to the soft ground below
that reminded me.

I remember that soft red dirt beneath my feet. i remember the wind, blowing my hair in a hurried rush about my face. i remember that leaf, torn with wormholes. he asked me to strip it. to take away any evidence of its leaf-ness. i remember carrying around that dry little stick and wanting never to forget what he'd said to me. about me. for me. i'm in the chaos now, the hurried frenzy of falling off the tree and unsure of where i'll land, unsure of when i'll land. but all i needed was that leaf falling at just past eleven, two hours later than it should have been, reminding me that he is still watching me. that he has called me, that he is faithful.