In every valley, the shadows gloam

Walk not in valleys deep alone.

For death ore shadows that dark place

And it’s easy there to lose ones way.

Voices that echo off every hill

May give alarm and winds may chill

That howl through hollows in the rock

And seem to chide, and seem to mock.

In every valley, the shadows gloam

Walk not in valleys deep alone.

I walked there once, well, more I guess

And listened to the wail of death.

I walked there once and then again,

With none to hold my trembling hand.

I walked alone as night came on

And knelt to pray, to pray alone.

My voice, among the din, was lost

I huddled, face against the moss;

The moss clothed rock, it sheltered me

In deaths dark night, in the cold valley.

A whisper small as the mustard seed

A whisper lost—as lost as me

Rose on the wind, rose to the heights

Of ancient, stalwart, mountainsides.

“In every valley, the shadows gloam

Walk not in valleys deep alone.”

I heard One say those very words

And I suppose somehow He must  have heard

The feeble whisper ‘gainst the moss

The whispered words of aching loss.

For the light came down and covered me

There, where I knelt, abiding Peace

Came softly to the valley deep

And led me gently to the peak.

I stand here, now, bathed in His love

Alight with joy and hope, above

The shadows dark and valleys deep.

Alone no more, no more I weep

In valleys where the shadows gloam

Nor walk in valleys deep alone.