Peggy Joyce Thomas

THE LEAF AND I
A tiny bud swelling with life
About to enter this world of strife
Little knowing and caring not
Of its fate in life or of its lot.
It emerges at last in the light of day
All soft and pink and ready to play
With springs soft breezes and the sunmer sun
Realizing not that lifes just begun.
But if it survives the frosts that come
And the diseases that effect the very young,
It will serve its purpose here on earth
That was God's intention at its birth.
But all too soon it will grow old
Its chosen place will be hard to hold.
It will shiver and shake in the North winds blast
And will tumble from its place at last.
It will be blown thither and yonder against its will
By a-fickle wind that's never still.
But finally it will come to rest
In some fence corner or a field mouse nest.
But ever how much it's blown around
It becomes finally humus for the ground.
From dust thou come, to dust thou returnest
is just as true,
With the tiny leaf as with me and you.
S. D. Dellinger

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