by Jay O'Toole
Every year is a metaphor for Life itself.
The autumn of this earthly day
may seem so sad as days grow short.
"No more may we, our works display?
No more may we, our strength still sport?"
Take heart, Dear One! The best is near.
The harvest comes as days grow dim.
We need our strength, not stronger fear
to gather lasting souls for Him.
What Wisdom from The Savior Blest!
The days, that wane, are greatest, yet!
We've lived through long, hard days of test.
Now, Home is near to wonders get.
We lose in autumn, but we gain
as wheat turns brown to feed the Earth.
The days of youth submit to pain,
forgotten in these souls' new birth.
The empty barns will soon be filled
with harvest joys and lasting grains
for Christ, the Lord, He once was killed,
but rose, again. His Life remains.
Word Count: 140
Line Count: 20
Prompt #2: "First day of Autumn
Free Write about the Autumn/Fall season."
by Jay O’Toole
on September 22nd, 2021