September When It Comes

I plan to crawl outside these walls,
Close my eyes and see.
And fall into the heart and arms,
Of those who wait for me.

I watch the clouds go sailing;
I watch the clock and sun.
Oh, I watch myself, depending on,
September when it comes.

So when the shadows link them,
And burn away the clouds.
They will fly me, like an angel,
To a place where I can rest.
When this begins, I'll let you know,
September when it comes.

-- Rosanne Cash

Thanksgiving Day is a time when we reflect on life, what it means, what it has done for us, what we have done for it. I'm 75 and it is not September yet. This is my Summer. This time is the highlight of my life. Not the highlight of my achievements, but the highlight of my appreciation, of my gratitude for others who have helped me in my life, and my gratitude for others who have let me give them service in the Summer of their lives. When my September comes, I will fall into the heart and arms, of those who wait for me. But, now it is Summer and I still have mountains to move, I still have to run.