Falling down, the fiery leaves
plummet to a cold rigid Earth.
How time goes so fast, it soars.
A gust of wind brings them home,
to become a mountain for kids soon to appear.
The wild paints dance on the artist's canvas.
Capturing those thoughts, soaking up the canvas,
each little idea is stuck inside the leaves.
Flowering, the trees soon gather together and appear,
out of nowhere. Beauty flowing as Earth
spins, rotating around a burning star the gods call home.
Colors still rising, reaching the mountains peak they soar.
Biding their time the fuzzy robins soar
around the artist's head, wanting a turn on the canvas.
Eager mothers frolic with the children, dreading the trip home.
Splashing around in the puddle, the robins avoid the leaves
falling down upon them. The gravity of Earth
gives its exceptions, just waiting silently for it to appear.
Great oaks are still crying, remembering the first leaf to appear.
Mothers with their children still pretending to soar
are left unscathed by the dying on Earth.
The horse hair brush splatters oil across the canvas,
staining blood atop the flame colored leaves.
The light slowly diminishes, robins returning home.
Everything returns home
it's time to disappear.
With the leaves
still trying to soar
upon the painter's canvas.
Resting on Earth.
is our home,
to suddenly appear,
as we soar
along with the leaves.
Night's last gleaming sheds light on the canvas,
with leaves to appear at home
on this planet Earth to forever soar.