The leaves have faded
From gold to dry dusty brown.
The wind blows cold and drear
Chilling me to the bone.
How long my Lord
Will I sit in the shadow of your anger?
Will I ever see the light of dawn,
warm on the horizon?
Forgive me, Holy Spirit,
For I fear losing your warm presence.
I pray for the day
When you will come and hold me again.
Ruth Jewell, ©November 12, 2011
A Quiet Walk 
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