In the days of stark November,
half the day is dark as night;
yet the somber shade of shadows,
is surpassed by Your great light.
In the patterns of Your weather,
fall the rain and snow and hail;
yet for a day or for a season,
the beauty of Your grace prevails.
Leaves will die but for the winter,
they green again with every Spring;
and even in the clutch of coldness,
one still hears the angels sing.
Autumn's here but for a moment,
far behind now...Summer's heat;
we gasp on early frigid mornings,
dodging ice on hurried feet.
Thank You for the varied seasons,
from each day of Your creation;
the earth spins safely in Your hands,
and souls cry out in jubilation.