Skyelord in All for you

Autumn Leaves
Gone now are the heart warming summer nights.
Wondrous colours are on every tree,
Leaves falling down create beautiful sights,
Listen quietly to the wind,
Playing through the branches like an autumn symphony.

These vibrant, crisp leaves,
With artistry tracing each vein,
Perform a gentle dance,
Amidst the caress of the whispering.
I attempt to capture their elegance
but how can mere words
possibly contain the liveliness
with which they observe demise?

These trees give us the leaves’ our last gift.
Like paint on blue canvas, they embellish the sky.
As the leaves dance away, the trees will mourn,
but their end is just the start
to another turn in the carousel of life.
soon the snow will start to fall,
Settling on the roof tops gently,
Like a white winter quilt.

Walk in the leaves
We looked out of the window it was a beautiful afternoon, and the sunlight made long, golden paths through the over cast grey autumn sky. A gentle breeze played with multi coloured leaves as they fell and danced falling from the trees nearby inviting us to watch its happy game. Quickly, we went to change and found warm jackets to wear. Making our way towards the door, my wife called out, Plum, Tanner, outside for a walk.
Walking to the door from another room, I reached down and gave my wife a big hug. “Are you really ready to go outside for a walk?” I asked. “Yes!” came the quick reply. And with that, I opened the door to lift down the wheelchair and begin an afternoon’s journey of fun.
The brisk, late autumn air felt so refreshing, but made us both glad we had remembered to wear their warm jackets. Leaves swirled around us delightfully as the breeze continued to play its happy game. And the sun, smiling down warmly, invited us to follow its radiant beams.
We had walked only a short distance when my wife told me to stop and in amazement said, “Oh Malcolm… look at all the leaves. They’re so beautiful! Where did nature get all of those colours come from?”
“How many colours do you see?” I asked, watching the dogs with their short legs bounce through the piles of leaves. My wife sat thoughtfully for a moment, counting all the bright colours of the fallen leaves. “Well…I can see red and orange and yellow and brown and…oh, dear, there are just too many lovely colours for me to be able to count! Why couldn’t they have stayed up on the trees? Wouldn’t that be better for them? Then, people wouldn’t step on them and break their lovely colours into tiny pieces.”
“Do you remember the snow last winter?” I asked with a smile. “Brrr…I remember that it was very cold,” she replied. “And springtime…?” he inquired further. “Yes,” she quickly responded, “the little flowers were so pretty and the birds songs seemed so happy!” “And, what did you do last summer?” I asked with a twinkle in my eye. “Oh, it was so exciting, dear. We went to watch the sea, remember? Even though the air felt so hot, the water was really cool…and tasted very salty! We all splashed in it and the grand kids played for a long, long time. I will never forget how big it was!”
We walked along a little further, each deep in our own thoughts. Then, I stooped down and picked up a fallen leaf. Handing it to my wife I said, “When this leaf was high up on the tree during the springtime and summer, it brought beauty and joy to everyone. But, it wasn’t able to touch us with its life…not until it fell from the tree this autumn. We couldn’t get up to it very easily, so it had to come down to us.”
She stared at the leaf intently, holding it tenderly in her hands and turning it over and over to get a better look at it. “it seems a shame it can never get back on the tree?”. “Yes, dear I suppose it is” I answered, “but not just the way you see it now.” “What do you mean?” she asked. I pondered her question for a moment and then answered, “Well…I suppose if people don’t unthinkingly sweep it up and destroy it, this leaf will naturally lie quietly on the ground each day until winter comes and covers it up with a snowy, white blanket. Through the long winter days and nights, the leaf will be cuddled up snugly under its blanket of snow.
Then, in the springtime when the snow begins to melt, the little leaf will be turned into part of the soft, black dirt in which the tree grows. It will help the dirt to nourish the tree and cause brand, new leaves to grow. So, I think, in this way the leaf will be able to be a part of the tree again. But, to do so, it has to give its life so that a new life can begin.” I smiled to myself as a sudden thought slipped into my mind of others who had given up their life so that others would survive and I wiped away a tear that fell and the chill wind chased it down my cheek. Then again I laughed and said well maybe soon you’ll be out of the wheelchair and able to kick the leaves along with the dogs.