The Symphony of Fall: An Evening Hymn

I hope this poem greets you

like a cool breeze through the window

as you welcome sleep—

and that it sings in your soul

as perfectly as the crickets.

The crickets, they sing the perfect song

to accompany a dim-lit home,

set against a backdrop of silhouetted trees

that huddle closely beneath

the deep, dark sky of a moonless night.

They mingle kindly at the intermission,

when the leaves whisper their applause,

and offer a breath of burning wood,

sprinkled like spice

upon the crisp autumn air.

If only I could keep this love in my soul

as my clothes hold the smoke—

maybe then it, too, would linger in my home

and fill every room I walk into.

Thank You, God,

for this evening symphony,

and for the crickets

that sing Your perfect song.