Heavenward

A crimson leaf, high-hoped, leapt heavenward,

but autumn’s failing breath sustained it not;

with dew-teared face it kissed its dreams goodbye

and fell, and sank, to wither and to rot.

He watched the half-black skies that drowned the day,

his azure Eden hidden from his sight.

As crimson turned to earth, he whispered soft,

“Stay not long hidden, bringer of the light,”

’til just before the earth was tucked within

its blanket, resurrection to await,

with broken brethren he was gathered in,

a child’s exuberance to satiate.

First child, then leaf, leapt heavenward aglow,

and fell with breezy laughter back below.