I know you're just a year old now
But can you see the Autumn through our kitchen window?
And do you wonder why the leaves turn brown
And lovely things must die?

Three years ago when Summer left
She took your Grandpa with her.
His smiles and laughter drifted by and faded
Like snowflakes in the early Winter storms.

But just last year
When the grass grew old again
Our hearts sprouted with your coming
And joyed in the Springtime of your life.

So God gives and takes.
And so we must let go and take hold,
Embrace and refrain from embracing,
As our life's year crosses the seasons.

There lies a dandelion
In the grass behind our house,
Crackling dry and slowly dying.
Its leaves clutch the earth in final desperation.

But up on top lies a fluffy white ball of parachutes.
And soon, the tiny paratroopers
Will board an Autumn breeze
And float over the fence
Toward another birth.

When Grandpa died,
His soul was carried to the Master's Vineyard
To sprout in the Summer of an evergreen garden.
Blown by the gentle breath of Jesus - home.