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 
??

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