“Vanity of vanities,” says the Teacher,
“vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
What do people gain from all the toil
at which they toil under the sun?”
The truck blocked my view
of the traffic light this morning.
I relied on its movement
to tell me when the light
had changed to green.
It moved, slowly at first,
creeping up to the speed limit.
Leaves flew out of the
bed of the truck,
hitting my windshield …
so many leaves …
so much hard work and effort
in raking and gathering
the leaves by those
I shall never know
and for what purpose?
I couldn’t help but think
of the words of the “Teacher”.
It was an Ecclesiastes-sort-of-morning.
“The wind blows to the south,
and goes around to the north;
round and round goes the wind,
and on its circuits the wind returns.”
(says the Teacher).
Once the leaves discovered
their escape route,
more and more flew
out of the truck,
dancing about joyfully,
flying through the air
with a freedom
beyond description.
Although there was
a windshield between
the leaves and me,
I had the urge to pick them
out of my hair or
brush them off of my clothes
or spit them out of my mouth.
So many leaves …
so much hard work and effort
and for what purpose?
Yes, it was an Ecclesiastes-sort-of-morning.
“All things are wearisome;
more than one can express;
… What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done;
there is nothing new under the sun.”
(says the Teacher).
I wondered if these very leaves
had once been discovered
by children.
Had they seen
the delight and smiles
and heard
the giggles
of little ones?
Had the leaves
first been raked into piles
that were calling out
for children and dogs
to “come and play” …
crying out to them
before the beautiful
golds and reds and oranges
were finally tossed
into the back of this truck?
If not,
then for the leaves alone,
the “Teacher” is right …
Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher,
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.
It was an Ecclesiastes-sort-of-morning.
