Though often I reflect upon my state
My state reflects less often truth like this
I see today so brilliantly displayed.
Here, truth lies breathless in the scented leaves.
The color slowly changes in a leaf
Which, in that month when breezes make leaves drop
And men at last see glory and believe,
Then shakes until by falling shaking stops.
And so, I also slowly understand,
So stand here shaking while the color comes.
The season of the Lord God is at hand
And season to a Truer Breath succumbs.
Now with the secret glory understood
Then this annointment of the leaves is good.
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