Leaves on a River

We are all nothing

But leaves in our own rivers.

 

On different trees

On different banks.

 

Until the wind blows us down

Into the wild rapids below.

 

Tumbling and turning !

Yet unsinkable, we float on.

 

Sometimes slow and calm

Until into the depths of a fall or two we go.

 

We rise back up crumpled and torn,

Yet unsinkable, we float on

 

Into the mouth of the river

Where a sense of tranquility

Greets us along with the sinking sun.


					
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