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