As I look in crystal pools
Of captured rain
I brush the hair from
I see the scars
I can’t erase
So with my hand I throw a stone
To ripple reality’s reflection.
I rise and walk through shaded paths
Of bended trees
and restless leaves
Bound by life to wooden beams
Fated to fall in bursts of glory.
I pass the crook of ancient trees
The promise of autumn touches me
I shiver as I contemplate
The passing time, it’s growing late
One day I’ll fall on bended knee
To claim a promise made to me.