Lord of Creation, God of the universe,
You are not simply summer to my soul.
Yes, I do love You in the sensuousness of summer,
When leaves wax and fields are a riot of color and joy,
When Your sun warms my skin,
And Your cool water revives my strength,
And long days become a sabbath-season that allow space, grace and growth.
Yet I also love You in the melancholy of autumn,
When Your earth dies a blood-red blaze of glory
And trees rain back their yield to the ground,
When something in me saddens amid the late-season blessing,
And I come to terms with mortality and winter’s approach.
But I love You as well in the dead of winter,
When wind howls over barren earth
Both outside my window and sometimes inside my soul,
When the heart can freeze like ice, or can rest easy, asleep,
Like a garden, patiently waiting for Your beneficent, restoring touch.
Finally, I love You in the giddy burgeoning of springtime,
When quickened life bursts from somewhere deep and wonderful,
A resurrected earth mimicking a resurrected Lord,
And something also in me is embraced by resurrection,
As the cycle of life again begins its turning.
You are every season to my soul --
Summer, fall, winter, spring -- together.
You transcend them in a timeless time and space beyond Your good earth.
Grant me to walk fully awake through the seasons,
Never missing the slightest nuance of Your vast overture of love. Amen
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