Summer comes to an end and the dead leaves begin to
fall, a silent cascade of riotous gold.
wither, days grow short, and I am reminded of my own
mortality, the falling count-down of my own life, so
that each day takes on a greater golden value than
the day before.
I treasure more carefully my time and my life on this
earth, and hopefully I am motivated to live better and
better, day after day, as best I can.
Help me, Lord, to make the most of every new dawn, as
the pages of my life turn ever more swiftly.
the fall of the leaves and the changing of the seasons
remind me of the passing hours and the receding years
of my one life.
me make every day on earth a preparation for an eternity
with You in heaven.
this I pray to You in hope, my Good God,
and in confidence, appreciation, and great, great love,