Sunday, 1 November 2015
Pockets Stuffed with Hope
I'm walking, pockets stuffed with hope,
along this undulating track,
littering the trail behind
with weights unwanted from my pack.
I'm following that distant star.
I've got it clearly in my sight.
I hear its music and its dreams.
I'm guided by its light.
I hear the darkened river,
I feel its surging tide
and then I hear the music floating
from the unknown other side.
I well know that its great flow
must float all flesh away,
yet I dream as I lie down
of rising on the coming day.
and in my pockets that weight of hope
grows each day a little stronger
and I look both forward and behind
in awe and love and wonder,
filled with hope for the road ahead
which steadily rises as it winds,
enriched and strengthened for each day
by the long road stretching behind.