The leaves are a constant shower this morning.
How long does it take for one tree to lose everything?
I know. Until it is finished. The process is glorious, though!
God's perfect order. Established when?
How many are the verses that
would capture every shade?
A different color, (so it seems,)
is noticed or is made!
How many are the writers
good enough to capture such
and put it down upon a page
with the perfect touch?!
But again, the quest arises
on an autumn morn.
How can I contain the glory
constantly reborn!
What beautiful frustration!
What glorious ordeal-
to versify Creator God
and His artistic zeal!
The season and its carpet on the ground. A curse to some. A treasure to others.
I guess you know how this writer feels about it!
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