Mary E. Adair
Not a single branch bereaves
The fallen congregating leaves
That sudden wind and rain has ripped...
From the heart of summer, life is stripped.
Here an Iris, there a rose,
And some golden bloom near their toes
Shines above a carpet of gold;
Russet and flame we can behold.
Standing proudly each bloom seems to say
I've waited so long, now this is my day!
And truly their beauty is their worth...
Their goal reached, as they shine forth,
Touched by a sunbeam, cloaked with dew...
Ah, if the innocent blossoms knew
That soon they'll lose their ephemeral grace,
And in the path, fall on their face.
Why are we touched by such a show?
Is it because our heart seems to know
Our thoughts are being trained by such
(And everything only lives so much)
So that while we're here, in our turn,
And vibrant life within does burn,
Being the best that we can be,
Is today's lesson on Eternity.
Copyright November 17, 2003 Mary E. Adair