May 3, 2007

 

it is a lonely road, this walking with God

dry and dusty, like a desert

it is rare for rain to fall

the sand scalding against my feet

the promised Companion so silent as to be not present

where my father’s trod a verdant glade

naught but scorching sun I see

where the enthusiasm, where the joy?

why is my road so far removed from theirs?