Father—Creation that you’ve made!
Spring’s sweet buds, and Summer’s glade;
Pumpkin’s orange in Fall’s bright pallet,
Forest’s sleep ‘neath Winter’s mallet…
Your seasons teach me lessons stern;
Lessons that, I needs, must learn;
That all year ’round — these changes show,
I must change if I’m to grow!
Why resist with all my might?
…with each new season in my life,
Relentless Change’s pruning knife?
Cutting away the worn, with cost,
And though I weep at what I’ve lost;
Change will not yeild — but cutting still,
Bids me swallow this bitter-pill…
‘Tis not The Father’s heartless scheme!
‘Tis not the death of Heaven’s dream…
But Tender Wisdom from above,
Calling him Home…
Because — he’s Loved!
And so these tears — this Season’s end…
This bitter loss of Beloved Friend;
I will accept because I know,
Change must come… and you must go…
But never forget… we loved you so!