Tuesday, July 13, 2021

At an appointed hour, there is a battle to be waged. When one side has perished, the other will stroll the field.

The sun will have shone down upon them equally all the while, the ground will have supported them all.

The day could have ended with singing and fellow-feeling.

When I walk onto the field, Lord, let me think of the games we might play together.

(Letter #2,376)