whirling in the wind

red, orange, yellow

dying flames of glory

reminding me of my own

dying flames of glory

watching, I stand alone

waiting to be stripped of everything

waiting for the day I shall stand

naked before Him

why do I have to wait so long

when I am eager to meet Him?

my flames of glory,

like the autumn leaves,

are dead

and the winter chill is setting in

even when the spring comes

I shall not feel it

I shall not see it

living here among the dead

for I am one of them

we wait, year after year,

for God to bring us the spring

to renew us

and give us life

we are like the autumn leaves

fallen from their source of life

but not yet swept away

only whirling in the wind

whirling

and waiting

for His mercy