Fallen
The leaves fall, as did I,
To lay naked and broken with the others,
Looking up at our more blessed brothers.
Silently wondering at their tenacity,
Their brilliant audacity
To remain attached to their source.
Though winds blow and snows
Come certainly as time flows,
They do not fail their destined course.
What magic do they channel
To remain fixed in the brittle strife
That life defines as reality?
What powers do they employ
To persevere through the sheer
And terrible terror of mortality?
For even as I disappear,
Crushed and decomposed,
They remain secure.
Rude and ravaged boughs are not undone;
They cling content for sure renewal
From a faint and fickle sun.
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