Between

“My cup runneth over.”—Psalm 23:5

Gracious God, for this glorious day poured
From your upsidedown goblet the size of the scarlet-rimmed skies,
We raise our praise as a longstemmed glass that glints
With intimations of Your higher world’s glow,
Trying to catch the overflow that hints
At things not known by sight—yet partly known
From the million vermilion maple leaves quavering down,
Spilling over the lip of our lifted cup. Squinting
At the warm orange border of the world, where the sun
Is rising like coal-baked bread nearly done,
We brace, full-fed, against the tart burgundy taste,
The fallen yet savory flavor of this Eden-touched place
As You decant your bouquet of autumn favor into our brimming cup,
Your love gushing down, we reaching up.

From Notes on Time, © 2021 Cynthia Erlandson.