how transient a life is. . .
like the crisping leaves beneath my feet,
mere husks of their former selves . . .
after a blaze of glory they
gently float down to their final rest
and to evaporate into Terra . . . my bare feet move with trepidation
along the seams of the ground,
and I watch the vibrations of the air
as I push my way through slowly . . .
The leaves peel away from the pavement. . .
and run before me in their
last dance; a moment of movement,
and I see them fling themselves
against a nearby fence as if
begging for freedom or
perhaps showing me the way
through to the infinite
galaxy, where the stars blaze
in glory as they give
life and light to the eternal tree. . .
and as transient as the leaves of Terra
they too leave behind mere husks
blowing about at the whims of the gods. . .
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