Alone With Time and God

On the ninth day of the ninth month the trees

Resplendent in their 'Joseph's Coat' grew still,

The failing of the year by slow degrees

Was felt in night's descent and sudden chill.

The vapours from the surface of the lake

Rose billowing in white phantasmal forms

Yet sorrow all this beauty could not slake

Nor quell within the fierce and violent storms

That fall upon the soul in time of loss.

I walk upon the paths our feet had trod,

The soft pine-straw and deeply yielding moss

And feel myself alone with time and God.

The wind whips through this fragile house of clay

And rain like tears consecrates my day.