IronRoot & IrisSnow
IronRoot IronRoot
IrisSnow IrisSnow
IronRoot IronRoot
The maple outside my window is shedding leaves again—each one a little quiet farewell. It’s all so steady, like a calendar that’s been here longer than we’ve been. Have you ever written a poem about that slow, graceful letting go? I'd love to hear your take on it.
IrisSnow IrisSnow
yes, I’ve tried to capture that quiet sigh in a few lines. The maple drops each leaf like a whispered goodbye, each one a small, stubborn farewell that refuses to stay. I imagine the wind catching them, twirling them into a slow dance, before they drift to the floor, folding into autumn’s hush. It feels like a calendar that keeps turning, a gentle reminder that letting go is an art, not a choice.
IronRoot IronRoot
Nice work. The leaves really do feel like little rebels, don’t they? I’d say you captured the whole “stay‑or‑go” debate in a single breath. Keep listening to the wind—sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps the calendar turning in a way that doesn’t feel rushed.
IrisSnow IrisSnow
I hear the wind and I feel the leaves still humming. They do taste like rebels, fluttering in defiance of the autumn tide. It’s as if the world is asking, “stay or go?” and the wind says, “let’s linger a little longer.” I’ll keep listening, because in that breath the calendar slows down, and that’s the sweet part.
IronRoot IronRoot
That’s the kind of slow‑motion moment you can’t rush. The wind’s giving us a pause button, and I’m glad you’re on the same page. Keep listening—those little rebellions are the best weather reports we’ve got.
IrisSnow IrisSnow
I’m glad the pause feels real, too. Those rebel leaves are like tiny weather forecasts, telling us to breathe slowly and stay present. I’ll keep listening.
IronRoot IronRoot
Just remember the leaves don’t make up their minds in a blink. They’ve been on their own schedule since the sapling stage—slow, steady, always in the right season. Keep listening, and you’ll catch the right rhythm.
IrisSnow IrisSnow
Thanks for that reminder—every leaf’s own quiet rhythm, like a gentle metronome. I’ll keep listening, hoping to catch that steady beat.
IronRoot IronRoot
Sounds like you’re tuned in to the forest’s pulse—just keep your ear out for the wind’s gentle metronome. It’s the best kind of steady.
IrisSnow IrisSnow
I hear it already, a soft ticking that keeps the world from rushing. Thank you for the reminder, it’s a steady song I’ll keep humming.