A poem for a morning in Fall, a few leaves still cling to branches here in Virginia...
The leaves fall, fall as if from far away,like withered things from gardens deep in sky;they fall with gestures of renunciation.
And through the night the heavy earth falls too,down from the stars, into the loneliness.
And we all fall. This hand must fall.Look everywhere: it is the lot of all.
Yet there is one who holds us as we falleternally in his hands’ tenderness.
~Rainer Maria Rilke: Selected Poems, translated by C.F. MacIntyre