God in Autumn
God is in the wind, the fall,
the color coated flora,
the moth marveled light.
He is in the night.
He is in the cold dark, the shade;
He hides in the moonlit lavender sky.
He soars through the smoke ring, the cedar’s song,
savoring the flavor of Autumn.
God is in air, the harvest;
He is near, and His fullness
fills the earth with sunset hues,
moments gilded with gossamer’s muse
Who can see Him heralding hope
carrying embers through the cold
to bring warmth to the weary
eternal youth to the old?
The child’s wide-eyed wonder
soaks in revelatory light,
but the callous see right through Him;
all their eyes can see is night.