LEAVES

ONE by one, like leaves from a tree, All my faiths have forsaken me; But the stars above my head Burn in white and delicate red,

And beneath my feet the earth Brings the sturdy grass to birth. I who was content to be But a silken-singing tree,

But a rustle of delight In the wistful heart of night — I have lost the leaves that knew Touch of rain and weight of dew.

Blinded by a leafy crown I looked neither up nor down — But the little leaves that die Have left me room to see the sky;

Now for the first time I know Stars above and earth below.