The ebbing life of leaves--
my long ago heart
like a dream catcher hanging on

I cannot persuade you,
bear no gifts of consolation
or reconciliation,
just lonely poems, meeting
clay feet on mother earth

rosemary and lavender hint at our passing
the scent of us
leaving nothing behind,
the forest grows wild again
like a vacant stare.

I feel this morning
like Jairus' father
when he saw with his eyes
the work of God.

Who is like Him,
I ask?
I've never even heard of another God
Who can do the things He does.

There is no room
for debate,
philosophy
or discussion.
I've seen Him myself.

The Lord took me to the pit
to show me how deep,
and fearful,
and hopeless it is.

But He took me by the hand,
and never released me.
I tell you,
the Lord pulled me up
to safety.

Inspired by SCRIBBLER! just post 1 stanza at a time to continue the poem. Let's see where this goes.

Groping in the darkness...
Where is it? WHERE IS IT!?!
Looking for the cold release of steel.
Frantic in the search for death.

The leaves about are mostly green
but many have become bright red
as crimson as bold roses seen
in midst of any flower bed.

After the thunder, all is still,
nary any type of wild birds sing.
The slightest whispers now sound shrill
and bitter haze makes tired eyes sting.

The passing tempest left trees shattered
on both sides of this rutted road
where once horse drawn hearses clattered
while transporting their dismal load.