Thank you Father for each hot summer day,
for falling rain or the sun's golden rays;
For skies azure blue with fleecy white clouds,
why it makes me feel like singing out loud.

Thank you for autumn leaves, red, gold and brown,
that cling so tightly when fall to the ground;
For the sky full of birds that wing their way south,
and scampering squirrels with nuts in their mouths.

Thank you for winter after all has been sown and reaped,
and mother earth has fallen into a deep and lonely sleep,
When through long winter days and cold blustery nights,
she is covered with a blanket so soft, still and white.

Thank you for spring when buds burst from the earth,
shooting forth in royal splendor in a show of new birth.
Telling us that those who died can emerge from death's gloom,
if they have accepted the one who came forth from the
tomb.