October 17, 2008

My Journey to God

God’s Gifts

The smoke of hickory fills the air,
The hounds chase the speedy hare.
The woods are splashed with color bright.
Frost sneaks o’er the fields at night.

The leaves are scattered here and there,
Forget fall—I would not dare.
The cool, cool breeze tells its tale,
It whispers o’er hill and dale.

Fall, fall, and its color scheme,
Clouds tinted like pure rich cream.
Cornstalks stand like a soldier’s brigade,
V’s of ducks southward fade.

The stars do flicker in the cool, crisp night,
The moon issues forth its hazy light.
The crickets chirp their merry song,
They sing their chorus all night long.

It’s time to nestle before a flickering fire
And let our minds acutely inquire,
Our thoughts go dancing in the flame.
To whom do we owe this great acclaim?

We pause to think of the Artist so great
Who gave us nature to appreciate.
The birds do sing their praise all day,
The woodland orchestra plays and plays.

Our eyes, our ears, our nose, our hands,
God’s gifts so wonderful and so grand.
Our best, our best, to Him each day.
What better way is there to pray?

By Richard Wechsler

(The late Richard Wechsler wrote this poem about God’s gift of nature in 1962. He was a member of Holy Spirit Parish in Indianapolis, and died in 1990. His sister, Our Lady of Lourdes parishioner Mary Roney of Indianapolis, submitted this poem for publication in memory of her brother.)

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