In the abundance of this waning season,
let me be turned to You, O God.
In the sunflowers' cheerful faces
and the Joe-pyes' frothy billows,
in the barn swallows' final flight
and the goldfinches' tinkling song,
in the cicadas' rhythmic whining
and the coneheads' high-pitched drone,
in groundhogs fattening,
and foxes foraging on windfalls,
in the the black gums' first reddening
and the jewelweed's golden glow,
in the myriad offerings of late summer,
let me be turned to You, O God.
Let me be turned to You.
No comments:
Post a Comment