Red, green and yellow fall the autumn leaves,
Cascading to the avenues of men.
They beautify the paths between the trees,
Who guard the joy as earth grows cold again.
Then whoosh- the palms of autumn sweep away,
Surrendering to nails of winter’s frost.
The sun forsakes its child, a shorter day,
And man laments the light that he has lost.
That light himself once trod on autumn palms,
With men who laid “hosannas” at his feet.
Then echoing the winter of the psalms,
Blood asked the Father, “why forsake thou me?”
As trees proclaim hosanna now today,
The cross of winter whispers Calvary.
-Tyler William O’Neil
-October 24, 2009