Life

Look for the ancient pathway Where the path breathes with life at every sacred step; Heaving and yearning, gradually freeing our souls; untwining and untangling even the ugliest knots. Until all we seek is Your face, And all we hear is Your tender voice, Beckoning us further than we dare to tread alone; Pilgrimage becoming sweet When we place our hands in Yours, The rough ways You do make smooth And the crooked path You do make straight. Whilst the Wolves and Hyena’s mock in vain; Our heads now drip with Your precious oil, And our human form with Your feathers You do hide, For You know our feeble frame. When shadows are drawn long at eventide we remember we are but dust As the scattered embers remain; our life’s refrain We still our souls to remember thus: Tales of knights in armoured suits, And battles long they fought, awoken as if by ancient dreams, Drawing on the waters deep for the thirsty soul ne’er can sleep Quenched now only by Thy healing streams Thee my burning embers cool. Seeking solace now instead of noise; Wisdom’s cloak is gladly worn When the hour presses deep upon our souls The oil of gladness is our song. With fervour we press on towards The Prize, Though lions roar and oceans swell, We have learnt the beauty of Your ways And love to dwell in Your ancient Courts, listening like small children to their Mother’s soft sweet voice We deftly tread upon the world that Thou hast made, and Thou aides us on to Beulah Land Where at the river shall we cross Into The Jordan Sea ??