It’s a lonesome road that we tread upon
When the day has done and the night moves on
When the sounds of dark are quiet and still
You may hear the call of a whiporwill.
The forest echoes with the hoot of owls
There’s an anguished cry from the earth’s deep bowels
Like the voice of those who have gone before
And wept for the lack of an open door.
Let’s pray for the vision that we all share
The love of our God full of grace and care !
Claire V. Bogdanos 