Listen...	
Can you hear it?	
The soft heartbeat of life.	
The breath of a sleeping baby.	
Beauty.	

And hear.		
With faint dry sound,
The falling of crisp leaves.	
Dancing on the cool midnight breeze.
Winding.

Follow.
Like a shadow.	
Like steps of passing ghosts,	
Seek to find their destination.
Shelter.	

Endure.	
A cold cruel world.	
Where dreams are withered trees.	
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees.
Fated.

Believe.	
In salvation.	
Holding to your firm hope.
Let your despair and fear tumble,	
And fall.

MJ Flack