Many people live like leaves in an autumn wind.
They’re blown in every direction,
They’re tossed to and fro as winds of doctrine blow,
Void of any true inner correction.
Yet they always run to me for shelter during their
Times of great affliction.
Winds of trial cease to blow, and then away they go,
Not feeling any inner conviction.
There is a tree whose leaves never wither though,
They go through great tribulation
I am the life of their tree; their life dwells in me,
I am their true revelation.
I will open up their spiritual understanding in order,
That they may eyes to surely see.
Lest they also too continue in their darkened mind,
Falling like leaves from a giant oak tree.