Sunlight robed in Sunday best, sky, the sea on canvas brushed, leaves in rustling autumn vest swayed to whispered wind-worn hush. Branches opened fists of wood, letting go of season past, and I, who underneath it stood, saw Your hand, and gripped it fast.

Sunlight robed in Sunday best,
sky, the sea on canvas brushed,
leaves in rustling autumn vest
swayed to whispered wind-worn hush.
Branches opened fists of wood,
letting go of season past,
and I, who underneath it stood,
saw Your hand, and gripped it fast.
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