Falling Leaves Poem by Sailing to windward

All the browning leaves;
seems but yesterday they budded.
Veiled, shy, tempted open alongside starry webbing,
suckling spring and summer sun, sweet sap and whispered song,
now, fall dankly in the chill.

All the falling browning,
leaves us seasoned, mourning,
barely open, veiny, vainly scarred and searching,
amongst our thoughts and roots.

But see - all the falling browning leaves,
caught in twisting zephyr,
bare glinting fruit and seed, hid in that dusty, ash faced mourning.

That dustless ash fed seed,
through life and love and need,
will write a thousand virgin reams
on paper milled from parent's burning, lifting,
love filled dreams,
to form new trees, that root, rise, give shade for fruit,
and browning, fallen, mortal leaves.