Do the trees know autumn?
I wonder if the trees know death?
I wonder if they hold tight
when the leaf begins to slip away?
Do they grow weary
when the warmth turns cold against their bark?
Do they begin to strive to stay alive?
Do they anxiously prepare for what’s ahead,
losing their sense of wonder
in their warm, bright hues of beauty?
Do they forget their beauty?
Do they lose their purpose?
Do they know?
Do they remember?
And maybe it’s me
who fears the fall.
Oh no, my love,
they let go in truth.
Their beauty rooted
in what’s hidden below.
Their purpose outside of themselves,
but in the One Who holds time.
They fall into barrenness,
mercy and grace entwined,
knowing it’s not a time of death,
but rather a space for rest.
They don’t lose their purpose, beloved,
rather with each passing day
remember death as a means of love—
love for the One who delights in them.
My dear,
they don’t strive,
they abide.
Poem Inspired by Psalms 1 & John 13-15
