As autumn leaves fall from trees
As the sun wavers and wanes
The memory of butterflies and bees
Brought wrinkles on my face and spots on my veins

I have grown old
In what seems just a beat of the heart
Have I become the breaker of my mould
Or am I as I was at the start

Never did I quite understood
The preciousness of the gift of time
The potential in each for evil or good
The fleeting moment which is our prime

And the memories grow
And the future dwindles
The rise to the top and the descent to the low
The fire within that lessens and rekindles

Now I try to teach
The lessons that were then so lost on me
To whomever and all ears within reach
You are free and always will be

You the master of your fate
You the sculptor of your life
You the bringer of love or of hate
You the bringer of peace or the bringer of strife

Yet the autumn leaves glow
In rays of glorious red and gold
There is still so much to learn and know
A verse to be written and a story to be told

For when winter comes for me
And takes away the last of my fallen leaves
I will come with him being what I set out to be
A wondering wanderer that lends a helping hand and his believes

So that others reap
What I have heavily sowed
The price was seldom cheap
On you these fruits are bestowed

So when winters wind
Carry me aloft
Some parts of me will bind
To each and all with hearts kind and soft

For death is not to be feared
For its inevitability
For why should only life be revered
For without deaths fear there is only the endless possibility