The Flame of Sacrifice

I feel as if I walk on holy ground:
The path is paved with yellow, crowned with red,
The blanket of a thousand dying dreams—
’Tis here the sacrifice of love is spread;

I lift my head and see the glowing fire
And marvel in the glory of the pain;
The leaves are dying, but they shine the more,
Their sacrifice a greater good proclaims!

Oh, friends, I know it hurts; I taste your tears,
But through the autumn color love is proved:
The flame of death is light to all the world,
For they will know that we are Christians by our love.

© Benjamin Graber
bgraber@neo.rr.com