I wrote the following poem from the perspective of a dying maple leaf. Several years ago I was driving along Interstate 81 heading toward Roanoke, Virginia. It was the fall of the year and the leaves were absolutely gorgeous. I pulled my car over to the side of the road to enjoy a breathtaking view that overlooked a valley filled with white farmhouses and green pastures. The surrounding trees were brilliantly splotched with every color that Autumn could possibly render. As I stood there drinking in the scene, I noticed a maple tree on the side of the ridge beside me. Its head stretching in the wind, the tree grew out sideways over the valley and as a result it had lost almost all of its leaves. In fact, I took special note of one bright yellow leaf that shivered in the wind. That leaf had hung fast when almost every other had fallen to its’ death, floating down hundreds of feet into the valley. I wrote this poem with that leaf in mind. I, like that little leaf, cling to life. I hang on with the vain hope that I will live forever, scared to death of the undiscover’d country, from whose bourn no traveler returns. Yet, that day will come, sooner than I realize, when the Autumn Daystar (the Autumn Sun/Christ) will call me to let go of that which was never mine. When that day arrives, I must surrender to the music that sounds my departure from this world. May Christ prepare me for that day, so that I may joyously release my grip on this life. “King Jesus, bid me come.”
Matthew 16:25 – For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.”
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Sacrosanct Gospel 