A walk in autumn's splendor
Moves my soul as well.
God's cathedral -
And every golden tree
Stained glass of creation's memory.
I throw my arms around the wide world
And bind up every imagined wound.
Wipe the tear of the toddler,
Coax the infant to laughter.
Bless the bride and walk with the widow.
The wind rushes to me with a gentle kiss,
Whispering of mystery, majesty,
Of deep down gladness.
I am home - to the television, sneakers strewn,
crumbs on the kitchen floor.
Yes, Lord, be here as well.