Food For The Trees

By Christopher Commodore©2007

We will be food for you, O tree,
The moment that we cease to be;
Once ordered home by Nature’s fated call,
We’ll see no more your lovely show in fall.

A welcome chance to gain eternal peace,
My soul leaps up in calculated bliss.
As if to hasten end to place and time,
When even trees yield to this current clime.

Alas, therefore, let’s use this interval,
To feast our soul on nature’s carnival.
Yellow, red, green; some orange, violet
The sun’s gold halo bright and heavenly set.

So, when the final night is here,
And day awakes to winter’s frigid fair,
Alas, I hope we’ll all be in that ring,
When waking twigs salute a brand-new spring.

Then only those who like your autumn leaves,
In nature’s bosom slumber, roll and heave,
Will see, O tree, your show again this fall,
Until called home by Nature’s ordained call.