Autumn
Wim Franken
The leaves are falling, falling as from far,
as if distant gardens withered in the skies;
they are falling with a denying gesture.
And in the nights the heavy earth falls
from all the stars into solitude.
All of us fall. This hand here falls.
And look at the other: it is in all.
And yet there is One, who holds this falling
Immensely gently in His hands.