In expectation of His good provision
I wait, and close my eyes against the early autumn sun,
Inhaling apples, dry summer grass,
The first bite of crisp coolness,
Exhaling impatience into the sky.
I breathe deeply, filling my belly
With this last fling of sunshine before the rains return,
Expanding my ribcage,
And holding each breath down to my anklebones,
Knowing it must be released into winter.
I stretch one last summer stretch
Toward the south-drifting sun,
Preparing to curl my spine around my middle,
Ready to hibernate, pale and warm,
Waiting for spring and rebirth.
For in this spring to come, in expectation
Of His good provision, His perfect plan,
Renewing covenant, retelling story,
I will see His grace breathed out in breath upon breath,
Shining through His people Israel.
Life, into death, into life again.
