Darkness and light

With a panting grunt, the farmer hauls up another large pile of hay with his plug and carefully deposits it with the rest of his awaiting friends in line. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. He desperately wipes the strips of sweat with the back of his hand and then soon nestles himself down on a muddy ground to catch his breath. With his tense back against the coarse and hard brick wall, he inhales and exhales. Inhaling the sweet, exquisite smell of honey with a combination of vanilla. Exhaling the devoured and eaten scent that satisfied his rumbling stomach. His arm grips onto his tummy to prevent from growling at him. 

To his fascination, he cannot help but gawk at the illuminating sunlight that exposed great force of fierce energy on the elements of the world. Penetrating the reflecting sun rays, as if waiting for the right moment of strike on the weakest of them all. The farmer narrowed his eyes at the yellow star, slowly rolling down towards an old hoary tree. A tree with dark and coarse twigs, outstretching its hands of the other trees. The farmer thins his lips and observes the tree as if it has been the most discovering sight he never took an eye on. 

The tree is displayed in an intimidating stance that towered over the smallest like a skyscraper. Leaves all spotted and encompassed in an inch by inch, body to body crowd. Their yellow hue of flaky peeling skin illuminating through the now scarcely shown light. Night is ready to set upon the sky and terrorize the world. But not yet. 

A sea of leaves that has kicked the bucket are all scattered and pitched down on mother earth’s land. The farmer notices no further sign for any leaves left that are gripping on the tree’s branch…. But for just one. One that is patiently waiting for darkness to appear in this beautiful world of Eden. Devouring the effulgence of gold by replacing nothing but dust and ashes. The farmer’s eyes stay glued to this surviving friend of the tree. The crispy and molded leaf that is half slanted with its hand in fear of not letting go. He stares at the weak leaf with a glint of sympathy to his chocolate orbs. His thoughts wish for the leaf to not release from the tree’s hand and join his impoverished friends that are all pitted in the dampened and cold soil. 

Unfortunately that only happens in fiction. With just his luck, the poor leaf involuntarily fails to hold on and releases its weakened grip. Cascading in a dangerously slow fall, the leaf bids the tree its final and lasting farewell and soon unites with his dead companions. It has been like watching a mute and dramatic fall of a film character. 

Now darkness is reborn, oppressing the world. Eden has now sank to grief. A grief of full torture from aging. Complete and utter silence slowly levels and numbs the farmer’s of all senses. To his knowledge, he realizes that from what he had just seen that as dawn goes down to day, nothing gold can stay. He may be surrounded by darkness. But he is enfolded in light