I hope it’s not in summer

when comes my call to go,

for summers when I garden

and help the flowers grow.

I cannot go in autumn

when color’s on display;

it’s much to nice in autumn –

no time to be away.

And surely not in springtime

with all the fresh young blooms;

Dear Lord, You would not want me

to miss those sweet perfumes.

And that leaves only winter,

when the grandkids come to ski,

so that would not be very

convenient, Lord, for me.

Is seems that there is really

no time that’s opportune...

I know it’s Your decision...

just not, good Lord, too soon!