Leaves do fall
On sullen faces
Trampled under feet
By unnoticing souls
Blinded by self-righteousness
Hush, the voices
I know what I’m trying to say
It only escapes me now.
As I try to understand,
Who is here
Knocking at my door?
Entering my gate?
With their soul solicitation
Never seeing the souls trampled
In their wake.
Souls not lost
As they think
Only existing
Somewhere they can’t comprehend
The leaves keep falling
An acorn or two
Take your wares
Peddle them in your own house.
Change the script
The words are all wrong
The fallen leaves can’t understand
Acorns merely sink
In the earth;
Sprouts they will become.
In the bark
There imprinted
Footprints of an earlier time.
But a time younger than the leaves.
For see, there on the leaves
The faces of those
Trampled under feet.
Those leaves won’t cover us
Only make them
See us more clearly.
Call us each by name.
