Autumnal glory, haloed gold,
Crown of splendour from of old;
Dying embers, kingdom come,
Truthful speech from ashen drum.
Such fragile construction,
this whisper-thin membrane
between you and the Light.
Nothing robust here.
You cannot boast of a strength of your own making.
your veins revealing the life-pulse beating in their wispy confines,
you boldly invite Sun into your membranes.
It captures your whole, and,
weaving a texture through your substance,
baptizes you with
“My power is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” II Corinthians 12:9 NLT