Gently falling, slowly slumbering,
the temporary death of trees
in Autumn and fall,
That loss of green and
color, of vibrant growth,
turned silent ghost, uncanny
cold living for a spring
warmth and birth, and all
the sadness of the leaves
that fall to the ground,
all those things tumbling down,
Feeding life after winter's chill,
fertilizer as we begin within,
The temporary death of love
and trust, through winter's slumber
until the melting frost.
Till the sun growing higher,
growth and understanding, increasing
our capacity to desire and share
in another's heart, branches
entwining, connecting the towering trunks,
All the dead wood and leaves from
year to year,
All that has fallen back into the ground
to reappear, in limbs ever climbing
towards the sun, growing closer.
Till at last they entwine and find
another soul of your kind,
