None But God

Just a whimsical metaphor about the lives of leaves and people...

None But God

 

In the twilight of a season

One cool November day

A single leaf departed

It's home since early May

 

It spiraled down so softly

In lazy arch's of grace

And found in maiden flight

A final resting place

 

With a soundless whisper

It lit like angels breath

Upon a pool of glass

And quivered to it's rest

 

Then tiny silken ripples

That sparkled in twilight

Shimmered towards the shadows

Of the fast approaching night

 

As with that golden leaf

Those ripples came and went

And noticed none but God

Another Autumn spent

 

In perfect revolution

The seasons axle spins

But seasons are just a ripple

In the lives of leaves and men