Autumn

God's blessing,
A thousand kisses flying,
All swirling and swaying, each
at its own pace and gait,
like butterflies that flew
from heaven to earth,
that only knew to take 
a vertical descent
Each fall's varying measure, 
telling me of the stateliness.

A thousand autumn leaves
dry and withered, yet
sprightly and cheerful, falling
from an old, wise tree
that I am lying under...
One thousand of 'em
shower my supine body,
and a few caress tenderly
my tired, deprived face.