In February 2007 my father passed over into Glory. From summer into fall I was overcome with feelings of change, of insight, and of a deep sense of peace. Only God can do that. Only He can calm the worrisome soul.
As I sat on a swing one day, sharing one of these rare, quiet and peaceful moments with my mother, filled with this inexplicable sense of calm, my eye was suddenly drawn to the fact that summer was soon to be over, while autumn was nipping at its heels. God gave me this poem. It was an iconic time for me...
CHASING AUTUMN'S TRAIL
by Cheryl R. Creek
Summer Time, a magical woman,
Skipped and tripped o'er sweet grasses;
Her soft, golden skin, still warm to the touch
Well into sweet Night's awakening.
Yet silken and moist is Autumn's cool breath
As she gently tickles each leaf;
Searching a path that may now be unguarded,
A path to the heart of Old Season.
Is it true, said warm Summer,
Is she really that close?
Most assuredly, sighed Old Season,
With a lift, a flutter and a nod.
So Summer, in all her glorious ways,
Gathering strength from Sun's cooling rays,
Shot high the next morning with a devious plot
To cunningly trick Old Season.
Autumn drew closer with the promise of Rain,
Old Season began to tremble;
But Summer had woven a broad, golden net
To hoard up old Sun's waning sun-waves!
Alas, as Summer pushed hard on the air
To keep sweet Autumn at bay,
Her glory all spent, she lay down to rest
While Autumn took hold of Old Season.
The End
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