By Elaine Knudtson
The valley has been dark and deep,
But I heard your voice in the stillness.
The whispering wind chased the rippling creek,
and the season changed in an instant.
I felt your presence in the morning sun,
the darkness dissolved on the meadow.
The table of blessing before me was laid,
I feasted on joy and thanksgiving.
The dark, dry, places were watered anew,
my voice returned with your presence.
A songbird descended and rested by me.
Hallelujah! Sing of his glory!
I have returned to the garden.