Autumn colors...
Deepening before they fall
Yellow, brown, crimson, red
Descending one, descending all,
Torn from life, now left as dead
And disconnected from the Vine,
Parted from the blood, the Life,
Without the Spirit's sap divine,
They wither, as if cut by knife.
No two-edged Sword has cut them down.
The Tree did not push them away.
But with no desire for the crown
They have abscised, not to stay.
Erik Mundall December 13, 1995
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