Fast and furious, the leaves are falling,
laying a golden earth-toned carpet
from my backdoor to the church...
I cannot simply walk across it, Lord:
some muscle memory, deep within me,
sets my gait to shuffling as I scuffle through
the crispiness of leaves beneath my step...
As it was when I was young, a child
on my way school or out in my backyard,
looking for a pile of leaves, raked, neat and tidy
inviting me to jump, to dive and softly land
with glee and and pure delight on a pillow
left by autumn, a season's parting gift...
And I love the sound, Lord:
the satisfying crack and crunch of fallen leaves
like a soft shoe danced on sand,
the whispering, shushing rhythm
of your presence all around...
I'm too old now for diving
into heaps and piles of leaves
but young enough to shuffle, Lord,
and softly dance my way
down autumn's backyard carpet
from my backdoor to the church...Protect me, Lord, while I'm awake
and watch over me while I sleep
that awake, I might keep watch with you
and asleep, rest in your peace...
Amen.
Tonight, just a walk through fallen leaves...
Walking on Fallen Leaves
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