Why do I take the man-made paths
Twisted and turning
With fits and stops along the way?
Overgrown with brambles
Created by a mind
Built by its own importance
Fleshed by a heart
Stirred by the demons lurking beneath.
Intercede for me all you saints!
Show me, Most Holy Mother!
The way back to the path
Your Son spoke into existence
Trod by His own feet
Washed by His own blood
Resurrected by His own Ascension!
Illumined by the Holy Spirit!
This is the path of deification
Born of love and silence
Hewn by pride, anger, sadness, and all the rest
I forget which is my worst
But they always get thrown back into the fire
Forged not by my tears or pleas
But by Your incarnation,
Your Very Body and Blood!
Pick me up into Your Arms
And set me down upon Your path again
In this life, For the next
So that I may behold your countenance
In the darkest hours.
Never regret the faith you gave me
The hope you are to me
The mercy You bequeathed to me in love.
An_overgrown_path_on_Woodhead_Hill_-_geograph.org.uk_-_2112602.jpg (640 × 427 pixels, file size: 148 KB, MIME type: image/jpeg)
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