We walk, we live, we sleep
In the valley of the shadow of death,
Even when our skies are blue
Like the eggs in a robin’s nest.
And yet on this grey and somber day,
And others that have swallowed light,
We also walk, and live, and sleep
In a valley where dogwood bloom,
Where tomatoes will ripen in the sun,
Where shade gives shelter from the heat,
And where friends are pleased to pray.
George R Pasley
April 22, 2020