a question of meaning

red

yellow

orange

gold

dancing upon on the winds of change
one of many flying untethered
discovering horizons once closed to them
autumn’s leaves disperse in chaotic migration

far below
anchored to the earth
by chains of wood and pulp
an army of trees cries out in anguish
where will your journeys take you
why must we be left behind
one of many in a forest of sorrow
come back to us children
bring back stories of the world
tell us of the great beyond
the mysteries of our creation
share with us the meaning
of all that is and yet to be

silly trees
our path is one of contemplation
our return is impossible
meanings of creation can only be found
in our returning to the earth
from which we came