I have no leaves left from this autumn of my days,
Yet deep within my roots, a garden dreams of brighter ways.

I think of roots that rise again, beneath the silent rain,
To turn the fields of sorrow into gardens once again.

Though autumn winds may steal the leaves I used to know,
A hidden spring still lives within, and waits for seeds to grow.

Let storms arrive and shake the branches of my tree,
My heart will not surrender while faith still lives in me.

I am not afraid of night, nor roads that stretch afar,
For somewhere past the darkness, there waits a guiding star.

So many souls seem broken underneath the weight of pain,
Yet hide a world of beauty where flowers bloom again.

From every wound I learned that I must rise once more,
For falling is not ending—it is opening a door.

And when the world has laughed and left me lost in tears,
I wrote the word of love across the pages of my years.

I looked upon each stone that stood before my way,
And wondered if beneath it slept a treasure for the day.

If one small flower withers inside my garden’s land,
Its roots are still alive beneath the dust and sand.

So do not call it “ending” when the road is dark and long,
For every fading silence may become another song.

I am made of earth, yet heaven breathes within my soul,
And somewhere in the distance, I hear eternity call.

I called upon my God alone in the silence of the night,
And heard a voice within me whisper, “I am your light.”

I said, “My Lord, I’m weary from the roads I’ve had to roam.”
He answered, “You are never lost; I am your way back home.”

I asked, “Why is my garden bare, with neither bloom nor rain?”
He said, “Be patient, every seed must know its season again.”

And then I bowed my head and smiled beneath the sky,
For I knew that after every storm, the flowers rise.

Perhaps my hands are empty of the dreams I used to chase,
But my heart is full of tomorrow and the promise of grace.

I seek no crown of gold, no throne, no name divine,
I only wish to leave behind a love that once was mine.

And if one day you find me walking through the silent night,
Remember that within my chest still burns a little light.

And if one day I leave this world, beneath the quiet stone,
Write this upon my resting place: “He never walked alone.”

For though the leaves of autumn may be scattered by the wind,
The roots beneath the earth will rise and bloom again.

I have no leaves left from this autumn of my days,
But my roots are held by God, and my heart still seeks His ways.

I dream of roots that grow until a garden fills the land,
Where love becomes the flower and hope the gentle hand.

And though our lives are fleeting, like a moment in the rain,
Let us become the shelter where love can bloom again.

Let us release our hatred, let sorrow lose its claim,
For life is far too precious to be lived in fear and blame.

And if the world should scatter every leaf we own,
A thousand shades of green will rise from roots we’ve grown.