A Quote by unknown on earth, gifts, gold, and thankfulness
Smoke hangs like haze over harvested fields, The gold of stubble, the brown of turned earth And you walk under the red light of fall The scent of fallen apples, the dust of threshed grain The sharp, gentle chill of fall. Here as we move into the shadows of autumn The night that brings the morning of spring Come to us, Lord of Harvest Teach us to be thankful for the gifts you bring us. . . .
Source: Autumn Equinox Ritual
Contributed by: Zaady