An Autumn Leaf's Prayer

Am I the heartbeat of the crimson leaf? Can my pulsating blood in nature be the freedom of a summer's coming grief, or is my fate ordained in verdant see the mired death of all untrue belief upon the altar of concrete decree wherein I end as alder's unborn child within this autumn park's constructed wild? I pray I am the spawning of the earth upon which only giants place their feet and as I germ within the gaping dearth where looms the winter's unforsaking sleet I'll breed continuance of summer's mirth upon the prancing of my golden feet. I feel the scarlet burning in my veins and ask the arbor gospel flame remains.