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Sitting here in the waning sunshine of Summer
And the waxing sunshine of Fall, my mind
Is filled with keloid memories of challenged trials
And tribulations that have fallen fallen upon me;
And the thanksgiving heart of the same mind
Reminds me of the healing graces of my Lord
That has faded and fallen from me, those burdens
Which are now a part of the carpeting of Mother Earth.
Indeed, a part of Mother Earth that will soon host
Fallen leaves of stoic trees that will soon stand
In their naked awareness of Fall’s preparation
For winters crucifying coldness that they will survive.
Thus, from the Autumn of Fall to the twilight of winter,
May I likewise be as a naked stoic tree—standing tall
Spiritually barked—with a burning faith whose fire will
Be hotter than the fires of Hell could ever hope to be.
So, come on Fall—with your arid attitude—
Do your thing; stoic trees and I await your
Chilling shedding nakedness with a warm
Clothing spirit that can handle whatever falls.
