What stays true in a perpetually woven fabric of life? Is it the colors that gel together that make short work of strife?I got the following off mithuns page, its not in his archive yet, so here it is:
“I was thinking of old friends today
And how many of them have slipped away.
Moved, got married, or stopped calling so much,
Found new friends, got busy, and just lost touch.
It reminded me of falling leaves.
Every autumn the leaves fall from the trees.
Some stay longer than others, but eventually –
Each leaf must fall, I’ m told,
Leaving the tree alone to face the cold.
Why is it that in the time of utmost need
The leaves would seek to leave the tree?
And when we need our friends around
We look and they can not be found?
Of course these friendships come and go
And in the spring new leaves will grow.
But I prefer autumn friends of old
With crackling laughter and colors bold.
It saddens me now I must admit
How somehow, someway, I did forget
Laughing with old friends of mine
During summers when the sun would shine.
And then I thought of you.
That one stubborn leaf that won ‘ t let go.
That clings despite the winds that blow.
Fighting ice, and snow, and winter’s stings
Hanging on right through till spring.
So I guess that’s what you are to me –
The very last leaf to leave the tree.
I know it seems silly, but it’s true.
When I see that last leaf…
…I think of you.”