But the Leaves


I see.
Can you see,
a path among the trees?

So many trees.
But I only think of the leaves,
And all the things they have seen.

The sun rise;
The moon light gleaming on the leaf next door;
The tree trunk so wide that the leaves do fly everywhere.

They know when the fall winds will blow,
and the leaves that live through the winter’s snow;
So much of life the leaves watch live and grow:

The new born baby,
they peered through the window as he was being born;
They saw him run and play as a boy,
The leaves know of his struggles into becoming a man.

The leaves saw the armies marching through the path,
and the destruction of all the bombs that fell;
They blow and bend at half-staff,
for the life of the forests that are no longer there.

They know the animals that come and go;
The leaves praise the Lord all their days,
but no one but the Lord knows their praise.

If the leaves could talk many of life’s stories would be told;
If you praise the Lord out loud, the leaves will blow with a cool breeze,
coming your way as you smile,
the leaves wishing on a rain drop all the while.

But the leaves.


(*Inspired by this painting)

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