November

November,
Bleak November,
So somber you appear.
Through blissful sunlit summer days,
Graceful shadows e’er drew near.
You remind us of departed souls.
And like a ghostly wraith,
Of bygone holocausts and wars,
That haunt those who break faith.

November,
Fair November,
Harbinger of winter’s chill.
Quicken to the coming solstice,
As night stirs longer still.
Propel us from yon harvest moon,
Toward the Advent of our God,
That joyous carols earth may sing,
In search of paths he trod.

November,
Dear November,
O twilit eventide.
Pursue the dawn of days and dreams,
No shadow can e’er hide.
November,
Noble November,
But fools misread your drear.
You humbly indwell deep within
All hope throughout the year.