Who Am I

In the autumn of my existence

I’m a golden leaf hanging from a brown tree

Surviving in a sea of red

With clouds of blue swirling above my head

Rowing on the waves of life

Pushing forward going backwards

Trying to find the right stride

That propels me to push back and move forward

In my prime I’m looking up

Reaching for apples of gold from a basket of silver

Resting on the one who shaped the mountains and stirs the wind

Embracing  a solace that lies within 

Running this race with a blinding speed of vision

Vision that sees and knows all that needs to be seen and known—in its own time

Who am I

I am me

Not trying to be who you think I should be

But being the one I was created to be—in my own way

In my own time

Who am I

I am who I am