The Note On the Leaves

Upon the hymns of receding birds To the campus my footsteps lead And here I sit on a wayside bench To countless tunes of life’s I hear As I await the night I plead To bring joy to which my soul be drenched. And here alone I lift my head Beneath this drooping Mabolo tree To my surprise, I can’t believe Upon the leaves the note had said “Where art thou my meant to be? For all these years I do behave.” But as those leaves will fall to ground So then the note slept without a sound.