A tale of two trees

"I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree."

Well, you won't see a tree lovelier than this beauty I found standing sentinel among the markers of our dearly departed:

A little reminder of God's knack for creating for the pure enjoyment. Trees didn't have to look that good as they shed their summer attire. But they do. The contrast between its vibrant colors and the somber collection of reminders that we are mortal is striking. More striking, however, was another reminder that even the stateliest entity eventually follows the path that all living things must trod. Standing before a tall monument to some former life is this tree:

The silhouette adds to the eeriness. Behind it, barely visible, a cherubim on a pillar reminds us that someone wanted more than a mere plaque to commemorate their life's accomplishments. Yet the tree in the foreground says we end up at the same place no matter what. Whether kings or princes, powerful or nobodies, from dust we were made and to dust we will return. This tree, no doubt in its day looking as radiant as our friend above, is left an empty shell. Hence the part of life so many today forget, that for all our worries and strife, we have bigger issues to remember. The biggest of all is not how this momentary blip of our existence will turn out, but how the greater portion of our eternity will unfold once we have joined that broken husk standing lonely in a place to which we all must journey.

Meménto, homo, quia pulvis es, et in púlverem revertéris