All is Well

At this moment I sit in a comfortable porch chair looking out across the very meadows described in the poem below. The late afternoon sun is drifting towards the nearby mountaintops, yet still offers plenty of light to paint the world a radiant autumn gold. This is perhaps my favorite time of the day, when all of nature seems most eager and alive. The wonder of an Indian summer clings doggedly to the hills and valleys, bracing against each evening’s frost and striving every afternoon to stand its ground. The bugs and the birds still sing their merry songs as the grasses dance in the last of the warm September sunlight. While they know that this time must end and give way to the cold of winter there is still a feeling of hope pulsing through all such valleys as this. I am reminded just now of our own spiritual condition. We live all our lives with the winter of death just around the corner. However, those who have a saving faith in Jesus Christ can live cheerfully in the hope of a springtime of resurrection. We have no fear of death because we understand the seasons of our lives and the promise of a better life yet to come. Thus, we can look out across our own meadows, wherever we may dwell, and say as I have this late afternoon, “All is well.”

All is Well
Almost dusk in Genesee Valley
With barely a whisper of breeze
The autumn sun is nearly gone
As it slants through the western trees
A trickle of water near at hand
Dances merrily on its way
Somewhere the cry of a blue jay
Squawks his farewell to the day
I can just make out the distant song
Which rises from Grizzly Creek
Unheeded by a pair of squirrels
Busy with games of hide and seek
Before me a meadow of harvest gold
Behind me a veil of cedar and pine
About me peacefulness is draped
Embracing me in the divine
I hardly dare to speak or breathe
For fear I’ll break the spell
Which quiets my heart and stirs my soul
It is evening, and all is well
By Frank Carpenter ©