Autumn Psalm

Oh death, where is your sting?
Oh grave, where is your victory?
Oh heavens, how can you not exalt the King?
Oh my soul, how can you not praise the Lord?

As autumn creeps slowly towards wintertime,
I stop and savor the scent of sweet decay
that lingers in the evening air
and can be seen in every browning leaf.

While my neighbors decry the injustices of the day
and fret about the coming icy seasons,
my own breath becomes a song of silent profession
of my love and devotion to a risen Lord.

For my Lord and Savior has conquered death;
my Master has closed the graveyard to my entrance.
The heavens cry tears of joyous jubilation
while my soul sings sweet hymns to Jesus.

©Copyright 2006 Joanne Tolles

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.
But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
- 1 Corinthian 15:55 – 58 KJV

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