On the Horizon
On the Horizon
My limbs and leaves are trembling
My green days of shade and blue shadow near gone,
For on the near horizon lies
The first cold flail of fall.
To compensate, my Maker made
My edges to wondrously curl and color
Dipping and spiraling as butterflies,
‘Ere I am browned and blown
To the ground.
I remember when I raised my head
After dark winter’s bitter gales,
Stretching my arms and blossoming,
And being caressed in warm sun, adored.
From that gracious beginning adulation,
Rich maturity and pride were mine,
My limbs grew long and reached strong,
Higher and higher to the sky.
From days fast passing, I must then bid farewell
Grandly with gold, blazing red and orange
To let winter have its hibernate way
As I Leave this short life behind
And pray for one more.
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