Falling Leaves

A tumult of orange and russet hues, the falling leaves of Autumn glide, trajectories swirled in a northern wind, to lie untended, cast aside. From slate grey sky weeps pregnant rain, peppers the earth with angel tears; on the border of Winter's icy promise the memories strip away the years. Golden reflections fix the eye on an innocent child of infant grace, at play in a world of faraway dreams in a past that is now a foreign place. Taken too soon like the falling leaves, veiled in a curtain of angel rain, bestowing upon the ones who loved rough justice of timeless hurt and pain. Yet through gentle tears and loving smiles a heart beats in an Autumn gale, for the soul of a child is a sacred prize and in love, down the years, will forever prevail.