The whirlybirds pod

Death is it falling through the air
Like a maple trees whirlybird pod.
Why does it "switch on the wind" mid-air?
Right then left, why does it maraud?

As we see its flurry, never in a hurry
In the wind almost, giving-up hope
That still might fly away timely,
That still might somehow elope.

It switches with a heavy hearts morass
It swirls it falls, it falls, it falls - until
It empties the last grains of our hourglass
Until it takes root in the quiet hearts shrill.

Death is it falling through the air
And is its soul like the first tangible leaf?
In the heat of the maples glowing flare
Is it whirling up on that first step of the stair?

Oh, whirlybird pod show us you're grief
Show us deep in your roots you care
Oh whirlybirds pod share with us your beliefs
Show us through your roots we too shall forbear.