Like tiny bits of crinkled paper
leaves fall, scattering in all directions
chased by the wind, scorched by the sun,
some caught on rocks, some gather in piles.
Trees grow more bare day by day;
exposed and stripped branches cannot hide
what found refuge through summer’s heat.
A season ends, and another begins.
I welcome the changing times of life,
each day a gift like the leaves that scatter
one upon the other like the passing of time.
I pray there not be a day go by
that I fail to bare my soul to Thee,
and thank you, God for what you’ve given me.
__________________
Joyce E. Johnson © 2017
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