The Wisdom of the Tree

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Leaves of copper, gold and rust
Scarlet, aubergine, and such
Shaken from its limbs and thrust
Gently encompassing

Standing tall, it’s space it holds
Swaying in the breeze it knows
It’s leaves now away must go
Winter waits in the wings

And so it lets them go free,
Afraid not of what must be
Bud it will again in spring –
The wisdom of the tree

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