Autumn

Autumn

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Promises fall like leaves in the autumn wind,
Crushed underfoot in their dying moments,
Discarded yet still living,
They wait to be gathered.


A celestial gardener comes by,
Taking them into his own,
Mixing them with the brown sod
Until from them life-giving nutrients flow.

Slowly with a gardener’s skill,
Over time of patient care
Green shoots from sod show,
Making life from crushed hope.

Just as dawn fashions a new day,
Hope once dead rises
Becoming life’s promise
As it’s leaves stretch, to reach the sun.

Though promise may seem crushed,
And dead beyond the dying,
Never give up,
For soon it will grow again.