Seeing the leaves fall from the tree
Had never truly worried me
but now I mark their brief descent
with morbid sense of lost time spent.
For does not the now naked tree
Bare against each winter freeze
Reflect the passing of my life for me
The World the Tree, our lives like leaves.
They served their purpose in season of sun
Harboured light and life, their job done
Each spirals down on its funeral parade
Each played a part in the strong tree made.
And the tree continues a cyclic round
Sees seasons approach, sees seasons flee
But life returns and the answer’s found
Our body the leaves, our soul the tree.
