Tree of Time

The yellow and gold,
Like drops of the sun,
Do glow in the days
Before they are done;

The orange and red,
And purple and black
Appear instead
To temper the lack

Of green on the scene,
For what isn’t green
Is rather begotten
By hues in between;

This tall tree of time
Forever believes
To bear generations
Of leaves upon leaves.

Now do we not bloom
In spring, to be green
In summer? Come fall,
Are hues in between;

That when we are old
Like drops of the sun,
Are yellow and gold
Before we are done

In winter’s embrace,
So this tree may bear
Our children by grace
When spring’s in the air.

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