Upon the breeze, the autumn leaves
Are carried thither, yon:
They rest at last, upon the grass
One moment…then they’re gone.
They’re tossed about and in and out
They fly across the way;
And up and down, they sail around-
The wind they must obey.
Now, if you please, the autumn leaves
Are much like most of us;
We’re tossed about by fear and doubt
And things we rare discuss.
This need not be, for you and me-
There is a surer way;
The solid Rock, will bear the shock
No matter what the fray.
He who believes is not like leaves
That drift with every wind,
His faith is fixed, in God unmixed
With doubts that Satan sends.
He walks with God, while earth he trods
He’s led by pow’r divine;
When life is through, beyond the blue
He’ll dwell in lands sublime.
-Carl C. Williams, Sr.