Leaves

I went outside to rake the leaves.

Took off my coat, rolled up my sleeves.

I do the same thing every year

and now and then it brings a tear.

The leaves will always come and go,

they parallel the life we know,

and in the twinkling of an eye

the seasons of our lives go by.

They come in spring, a perfect green.

All spring and summer they'll be seen.

By fall the change of colors start

and this year's leaves will soon depart.

Yellow, orange, red and brown,

it's like a timer, counting down.

The leaves grow older every day

 as all those seconds tick away.

The colors represent the time

as leaves mature into their prime.

The changing colors, as they age

each represent a different stage.

The green - a child starting out

with endless wonders all about.

The yellow - then you're in your teens

and learning what life really means.

The orange - now you've hit your stride

and those life-lessons get applied.

The red - your life is going fine

but you know there's a finish line.

and finally leaves turn to brown,

and soon enough will tumble down.

and as the last few leaves remain

still hanging on, although in vain,

trees shake them off with windy shrugs

which always gives my heart a tug.

'cause leaves will always come and go

they bloom and fall and then

they take a little nap until

the cycle starts again.

It isn't magic, it's just time,

there's nothing up our sleeves.

But isn't it ironic that

when something's gone it leaves.

So treasure all those changing leaves

and take some extra care

to cherish what is here right now

it won't always be there.