Rev. 22:2 “In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.”
Autumn’s Score
One by one they fell
Lifeless where once alive
No more life in hell
From the tree, they dive.
Spiraling without sound
Swept away by wind
Falling to the ground
The veins therefore rescind
Leave the tree so bare
Vitality now within
Gone without a care
The barren knows no sin.
Stoic bark and beauty
Asleep the life no more
Thumbprint lasting duty
Spring is autumn’s score.
