And again I found myself laying underneath the sun and above the shattered oak leaves.
Dressing the ground on a cold Autumn day, these tiny vessels carpet the woodland floor.
I find that we can learn much from the leaves of the trees and the grass of the plain,
I find that if one looks close enough, we really are no different than even these leaves.
Daily we’re swept off of our branches and blown into countless differing directions, parting
Parting from one another when our time is decided, knowing not to where we fly.
And just like these leaves, we are truly simple beings, varying in color and size,
But all coming from the same root.
You see I’ve found, by only watching the leaves of the trees and the grass of the plains,
That once we come to know our roots, the directions we take are no more valuable than the petty pride we often carry.
So here’s the deal you see, I really don’t have much to say, so listen close.
No one person is better than another, no one person is more important than some other
And this is so, because our roots are the same.
As the leaves of the trees and the grass of the plains of this earth in which we inhabit,
We must come to realize that our leaves are not what matters, but the fruit we produce.
We must come to realize yes, that without healthy fruits of love and peace and kindness
Our tree is but merely a sore sight to those looking upon our arboretum from outside
