As I leisurely gaze upon the view outside,
My wonder is caught by a sight.
I spy windblown leaves upon their branches,
Fluttering together with all their might.

The impression strikes heavy on my imagination,
As I embrace the image it brings to mind,
Of innumerable hands all clapping with cheer,
The leaves applauding some brilliant find.

Oh, magnificent trees within my vision,
What are you clapping for?
Is it only for success of the strongest gale,
Or a victory of long-fought wars?

Are you celebrating a remembered birthday?
An ovation for a year passed on by?
Or heralding the elevated wins of wisdom,
We seem to gather and gain as we die?

Is it praise or mercy that moves you to glee,
As you bring together what falls alone?
Is it applause for the sky’s tearful relief?
Or raised hands for sins now atoned?

I ponder these things with no reference,
As I have no guide that taught me of trees.
No clue if this is just chipper behavior,
Revealing truths or just a nice breeze.

I guess it could simply be nature’s way,
But it shows up like an abundance of cheer.
Surely, it’s just a normal wind planted,
Propelling your leaves far and near.

Maybe my artistry overcomes my sense,
As I grow this idea in my head,
Believing waving leaves to be clapping,
With not wind, but true joy instead.

For when I stare at your cadence,
Your branches swaying with smiles,
I only see leaves that are clapping,
For miles, and miles, and miles.

The world really needs more applause,
More festivity and more hip hip hooray.
Maybe my longing for more merry making,
Is why I see something special in play.

As humans we should clap more for each other,
Celebrating all the joys that we see.
But since we seem to be frozen in monotony and pain,
I guess it’s left up to the trees.

Even for our friend in the mirror we ignore,
We forget to delight in her worth.
Reflecting false stories of failure and strain,
Instead of accomplishment, we herald the hurt.

We must find hope where we can find it,
And like the trees, we must root for this day.
Then maybe our vision becomes our belief,
And we’ll see clapping all along our way.

True or not, this day I will choose my view,
Choose to see celebrations over the same.
Outside my window they cheer for us all,
An example of growing despite days of rain.