Shining Through

It was a windy day in March,
And I was sort of blue.
For my daily task looked up at me,
And grew...and grew...and grew.

Says I...I feel just like a fire,
That's smoldering up the flue.
I've stuck at home until I feel,
Just like a pot of glue.

I've schemed on many angles,
There was a way...I knew.
So I picked up all my stresses,
And walked the Avenue.

When my journey all but ended,
And my steps were but few.
Behind the pillar of a great white cloud,
The sun came shining through.


E.P. 1908 - 1989


"Sun-shine...is but little flickers...falling down from off the sun. Filling me with joyous gladness, knowing soon my tasks are done." E.P.