982. Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree. ~Emily Brontë

by

22

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Not long ago leaves began turning,
From their many shades of green…
Into ones colored bright and gorgeous…
Reds and yellows, browns and oranges,
Glowing beneath the smiling sun,
Each leaf vying with the other
In the changing hues they had begun.

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Giving up their summer wardrobes,
Gladly; joyfully, and with glee,
Putting on their autumn trousseau,
As they leave their mother tree…
~Edited and adapted poem
by  Gertrude Tooley Buckingham

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Regardless of what autumn vocalizes,
it’s not until it plays “the harps of leafless trees”
and sings the somber song of deep December
that both the garden and gardener rest
knowing that it’s time to let the Lord and
Creation alone perform their miracles,
God from on high and
the earth 
from beneath the soil.
~Author Unknown

Those who trust in their riches will fall, but the righteous will thrive like a green leaf. ~Proverbs 11:28  ✝

**Top image is mine; other two I found on Pinterest

22 thoughts on “982. Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree. ~Emily Brontë”

  4. Natalie, I love the poetry, but the leaves outshine it all. They glow with an inner light that warms me to the bone, just like a campfire or a fireplace can warm a person be only looking at them. Thank you so much for posting this today/tonight. There is a cold wind blowing and chilling me to the bone, but the warmth from the photos makes it seems better. Hugs, Angie

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      • They do Natalie, they do. That’s why my apartment is decorated with Autumn colors, and loads of autumn leaves. I will have minimal Christmas decorations around, and what I kept will be the best of my collection, and the new things I’m making now. Will have to remember to gather more pine cones this spring so they will be ready for next year, but for this one, my bright reds and golds will do quite well. Hugs. A.

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    • Yeppers, He is the Master Artist. When I used to dabble with paint, I found it amazing that I could never quite replicate the colors on His pallete. I can’t do it with a camera either. The work of His hands is just too beautiful for we mortals. Love and hugs, N 🙂 ❤

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  10. Natalie, this makes me think of aging. Falling from the mother tree and burning bright with our dazzling colors, and then drying up and lying somber on the ground during Winter when God is at work to bring about a new spring…all is fresh, young and new. Lovely and inspiring as I journey onward toward this stage of life…

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