Falling Leaves

The trees spread out their branches
and lances of lightning pour down the answers
to questions unknown, the knowledge floods in like avalanches.
The leaves rustle alone to the tone of the steady drone
of water falling down, the rain on the stone.
The leaves listen to the sound of rain coming down
and they glisten and they sparkle, unable to drown
in the flood from the sky that's absorbed by the ground.
And they think in their minds as they look at the sky
how they wish they could fly all up high in the eye
of the storm and conform to the wind and the air
and be blown everywhere by the force of the bare
flowing air. So they leap and they swear that they'll keep
well aware of the dangerous currents of air.
So they float all around then they look at the ground
and they then realize that they will never rise
back again with the wind to the tree they were in,
to the branch with their kin, to the place that they've been
all their lives. And they then recognize that the end
was disguised by the wind, their demise will begin
momentarily, as they warily
then begin to descend on the currents of wind.
Drifting down, they despair, as they fly through the air
and at last they declare to their brethren up there
safe and sound in their lair, that they should now beware
of the currents of air, and they should now be scared
lest they be taken there. Then the falling leaves will stare
up at the blackened sky, and they will wonder why
they're unable to fly. And the storm's knowing eye,
it will laugh, they will cry. Then at last, they will die.