Broken wind scatters the leaves,
Fallen now from their heavenly sky,
Laying atop a cold and wet ground-
As the squirrels nest where they once
Resided;
And all that’s left to do is wait,
The coming of the bells is near-
The calling of the ancient songs
Now is ringing in my ears…
And though my heart, still young,
Longs to sing the sweet melody inside,
The patient longing of what’s to come
Is falling near my soul-wisened mind-
As leaves, colorful and true, decorate
The ground upon which they flew,
I am but a vessel, anchored within
Set to wait until the song birds
Release my heart once and again to sing