Autumn Prayer

O extravagant God, in this ripening, red-tinged autumn,

waken in me a sense of joy in just being alive,

joy for nothing in general except everything in particular;

joy in sun and rain mating with earth to birth a harvest;

joy in soft light through shyly disrobing trees;

joy in the acolyte moon setting halos around processing clouds;

joy in the beating of a thousand wings mysteriously knowing which way is warm;

joy in wagging tails and kid's smiles and in this spunky old city;

joy in the taste of bread and wine, the smell of dawn, a touch, a song,

a presence;

joy in having what I cannot live without-other people to hold and cry and laugh with;

joy in love, in you;

and that all at first and last

is grace. (words from "Guerrillas of Grace by Ted Loder, photos by Isaac)