<p><b><i></i></b></p> <p><b><i> Autumn</i></b></p> <p><i></i></p> <p><i> Dear Crickets, doomed to die,</i></p> <p><i> Bless you, for so am I.</i></p> <p><i> How bravely your song of Autumn</i></p> <p><i> Accepts without remorse</i></p> <p><i> The ordaining of Winter.</i></p> <p><i> Hidden in the hearth,</i></p> <p><i> faith of future generations</i></p> <p><i> Beyond the snow, beyond death:</i></p> <p><i> ’Tis humble your chirrup</i></p> <p><i> And full of courage</i></p> <p><i> As we too might be</i></p> <p><i> If we could but see</i></p>
Autumn
Dear Crickets, doomed to die,
Bless you, for so am I.
How bravely your song of Autumn
Accepts without remorse
The ordaining of Winter.
Hidden in the hearth,
faith of future generations
Beyond the snow, beyond death:
’Tis humble your chirrup
And full of courage
As we too might be
If we could but see
God beyond the horizon
Of our Autumnal glory
And decay.
— F.B. Sayre Jr.
(First published in the
Vineyard Gazette, November, 1984)
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