When the woodlands have kept their leaves

    and quickly lost their color,

When your voice echoes back clear

    and without joy,

When your days are filled

    with a vibrant exchange of gifts

and you yet feel life winding

    down inside your chest;

Remember

    to set aside pleasures;

    to feel the solid dirt below you

        which will accept you;

    to wait for Him, immediately;

    to stand with calloused hands

        unclenched.

When the sun breaks

    through your eastern window,

will you open it,

    remove the screen,

    and again take breath

    from the hands of our maker?