Leaves Adorn

Wide forest green leaves adorn her,
Yea this tree’s, hair,
Just a faint touch of the wrinkles of the dawn of the age
of autumn,
Sunlight peeks through her outspread arms,
As but in all this time a single leaf turned tear hath fallen,
She was here long before their blood was shed,
Yea, shed by Enmity’s own hand.
Perhaps some of those who now hath wrought our garnet tears,
Sojourned here to visit this very woman,
Yea, this very tree,
Though her leaves hath barely a wrinkle, her skin is tough and indented,
Yea and she is fortified by her years.
On this day of sorrow,
As my own tears pour like rain,
I marvel at her stoicism,
She who hath seen far more tragic winters than I,
As a single leaf falleth.
I think, I ruminate upon all who may have rested in her shade,
That now dwell in the realm of perpetual shadow,
Yea as her rustling fingers sing to me.
I am soothed,
And she crieth not,
But soon as autumns breath blows,
The damn shall burst,
Deluge of autumn’s melancholy essence unleashed.
By Jordan Reitz