Gentle wind, dance with the leaves;
green today, gold tomorrow.
Often wait for one to fall,
but time slows the heart's hope.
Please, let one fall, just one I pray;
fall for me, slow to the ground.
We shall wait for one to fall,
but time slows the heart's hope.
Alas! the gentle wind doth not repose
and sets upon the golden tree.
Not one, but many He gives to me,
and am reminded of many things.
Autumn 2008
No comments:
Post a Comment