|Coffee in the Morning by George Mendoza|
Good morning, good God...
The chill, the rain, the wind
have claimed all leaves
save those whose stubborn hold
will not let go 'til you, Lord, say the word
and then they'll fall,
in autumn's letting go
when holding on to warmth gone by
might seem survival's only path
but you know more than I:
you know my letting go may be
the only way to hold all I keep dear
and all I dearly need...
I offer you my hold on things,
my stored up fears and tears,
my grip on hurts I won't let go,
that won't let go of me...
I offer you my fear of falling,
spiraling, of letting go
my heart into your hands,
my hope into your promise
to be there to catch me
when I fall...
I offer you and make my own
the prayer of falling leaves
and autumn's trust you'll hold me
through the winter's cold as I let go
my hold on all but hope of spring...
Gather all your falling leaves, Lord,
all the pleas that spiral from my heart
and fall, this last day of October,
on the eve of saints and souls...
|Photo by Jesse Kruger|
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