When God takes out his brushes / creating a longing - for Home

Seems like all Creation hushes / in awe of our belonging - to a Poem?

Leaves fall in a windswept whirl / ushering them on their way

All caught up in a final swirl / wondering why we have nothing to say

Winter's coming -  burying all / Somehow we all must Fall

And be made ready / for that Final Call

When He takes up brushes again / And all colors come Alive

No longer wondering why there's nothing to say / Home - we finally arrive