Autumn Immolation

The hills alight with colors bright
Proclaim  self - immolation.
Their beauty lives as one last flight
Before  autumn’s  ablution.

The woods aflame, spared agony,
Are suffused with hues of tangerine,
Glow citron,  warm  mahogany,
Magenta, and  crimson  in  between.

Pale light sifts down amid soaring beams,
Illumes  a  cathedral  made of  trees
With swaths of glory sent in streams
 To  beckon  worship out  of  me.

And praise I must with eyes that see,
By God’s design, within  this bower
The  secret  beauty  meant  for  me:
My  faith renewed  at  just  this hour.

first published in St. Anthony’s Messenger

also published in Illinois State Poetry Society 

also published in Book of Joys

also published in PICTURE HEALING Chapbook