The Hidden Walk
While digging in the garden
Beside the Iris row,
The spade would go no deeper,
Something hard below.
A garden walk came into view,
Long buried under sod.
As I uncovered brick by brick,
My thoughts turned to our God.
changes come with the years;
We're not as once we were,
But now and then as we press on
Old memories we stir.
As the old walk was put to use,
Our past has served us well.
He's walked beside us all the way
And who of us can tell?
Perhaps a friend can glimpse beneath
The changes of the years,
The way we were so long ago,
Unshaped by joys and tears.
by Marie W. Powell
