Autumn leaves

You stand there in all your profound glory; like a tree on a hill, monumental against a serious sky. You move in the breeze, bending, never bowing. Rooted deep, ever deep and self-assured. No swaying you is there? With your magnificent honourable heart of oak, silver lightheartedness of birch bark, cedar- like handsome form- self-confident and determined. And I'm at the foot of that hill looking up at you as if you were a sublime stone statue high on a pedestal Your branches are out of my reach just now and I content myself with catching your wondrous words as they fall to earth as leaves in Autumn.