The world is new washed, The leaves slowly turning

to crimson and gold . . .

at summer’s adjourning.

Clouds pass on along, the breeze, gusty, blowing

caresses my face . . . .

in boisterous flowing.

The hedgehogs find slumber, the squirrels their nest

The dark brown cold earth

Speaks of nature at rest.

Still frost on the meadow replaces the sound

Of insect and songbird

As autumn comes round.

My God, what is this? Full glorious beauty

inhabits this world . . .

E’en in its death-duty.

The march of the seasons, in stately progress

In song, sight, and silence

Your bounties profess.

And I too, my Lord, am made for Your glory

a child of your heart . . .

O give me my story.

Please, where do I fit? Is my life-quickened clay

Just made to ‘exist’ . . .

To survive for a day?

My God, breathe on me. With life, give me wisdom

To live, yes, but more . . .

To flourish and then some.

Life seems so erratic, the present is boggy

The past harsh and done . . .

The future all foggy.

As mist, drifting, caught, in the dark stream of time

As rain-carried dust . . .

Am I still on your mind?

Oh God, help me learn, not my purpose merely

but fullness of joy –

to trust You sincerely.

To dance in Your presence, carefree and cared-for

Protected, secure . . .

In your love evermore.

To see in the seasons of soul as of earth

The hand of my Lord . . .

King of sorrow and mirth.

To hear in the ebb and the flow of my years

The voice of my Lord . . .

Speaking peace to my fears.

To find in the innermost realms of my heart

My Savior enthroned . . .

Nevermore to depart.

Discovering then when my years reach their end

At eternity’s doorway

My Maker and Friend.

– Mary Seeley Stockler