There is a crisp chill in this changing wind,
As summer breathes its last and comes to an end,
As the sun dims the world seems to die
And a solemn tone touches the sky
As I meditate on this state of grave, lonely silence
I remember that this time brings nature to balance,
That winter-waiting will result in birth of spring
And once again the birds will come forth to sing
How beautiful to see this pattern replayed and repeated
And in my own life the pattern is completed
For as the seed must die before it gives,
So my own gasping frame must die before it lives
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 6:40 PM UTC
There is a crisp chill in this changing wind,
As summer breathes its last and comes to an end,
As the sun dims the world seems to die
And a solemn tone touches the sky
As I meditate on this state of grave, lonely silence
I remember that this time brings nature to balance,
That winter-waiting will result in birth of spring
And once again the birds will come forth to sing
How beautiful to see this pattern replayed and repeated
And in my own life the pattern is completed
For as the seed must die before it gives,
So my own gasping frame must die before it lives
"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me..." John 12:24-26
