The Fallen Leaf
Millenniums have I traversed through mists and thunder
Hovering above volcanoes, stretching through sea-caves
My passionate trips surfaced along the meander
Of mountain ridges, swaying like a marooned slave
My autumnal greenness suffered a parch
In the days of searing summer pretty much
During winter the swirling wind laid me astray
Summer again to turn me green from grey
Suffering from others’ pains I writhed
The days of intense agony were built
The confounding rays of sun made me swoon
Was I born again? Was it nature’s boon?
Today I look up at the distant Sun
Covertly content; I have made my run
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