Praise and honor to the God who gives us fallen leaves rustling beneath every step and rattling in the chilliest breeze; who gives the simple pleasures of apples and the last oozings of the cider press and cranberry stuffing; who guides great Vs of geese through melancholy skies. It is good to enjoy thy bounty, O Lord, in the months of thy harvest feast!
Glory to thee for the burnished bronze trees, gold and flaming red.
Glory to thee for clouds that shroud the moon.
Glory to thee for faces carved into candlelit pumpkins.
Glory to thee for sweaters and flannel and hot-chocolate hayrides.
Glory to thee for days set aside to remember the dead and to give thee our thanks.
Glory to thee for woodsmoke and cinnamon.
Glory to thee for the caw of crows in the cornfield.
Glory to thee for the world turned orange and moody.
Glory to thee, O God, from age to age!
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Amen ☩