The Valley
Stories told of its abundance
the shaded shelter allowing all manner
of growth, genus and game
so we marshalled all we had
and set off in a caravan
across the bone-powder desert
there was nothing we were sorry to leave
having barely clung on to life
and become desperate for respite
generations had gone before us
leaving a path of sorts
and their stars were clear at night
so we did not lack for onward sign
no bandits could survive out here even
to waylay, ruin or murder us
till, lo, we were delivered unto that place
a defile descending into shadow
where surely we’d find a welcome
eagerly we entered in
singing praise for Him above
for what we’d find below
and down we slowly wound
marvelling at the echo
that roundly cheered us on
to find them on the lowest slopes
where they had scratched a living
near a weak and dusty creek:
they looked and sounded just like us
their skin a little paler
and their eyes a little wider
we feared them for a moment
knowing how we’d respond
if we were in their place
yet they shared what they had with us
though little could they spare
with stories of abundance out beyond the cleft –
a rich oasis awaited us
if we had the courage to find it
and so, refreshed, off we set once more.