Oh, Aspen Leaf!

my ears—faint with age—do but hear

a cacophony of rustling applause,

making my spirit…pause.

the rays of the sun: His warm embrace—

an…antithesis of shadowy gloom:

pure grace;

cause my eyes to…condensate

—moist tears

like water, gathering fears…

…transcending wilderness sorrow,

water in desert fallow.

but…

ah!—the Aspen leaves,

fluttering playfully in the breeze:

the worship of the trees.