“This road I am on
Seems to stretch forever without end.
Lord, it’s just so long.
I’ve thought about my options.
Compared the good to the bad.
I’ve stayed up late
To find the answers
But nothing is still all that I have.
I’ve rested on a few notions,
A few promises of release.
I’ve thought about picking up the pace,
Or perhaps stopping for a bite to eat.
I’ve looked across the horizon,
From the west all the way to the east.
Nothing is all I see;
Nothing for me, at least.
My eyes slowly scan
For any possible strength.
Any hint of hope,
Or expanse of grace.
I know the words that you say,
I know the verses I’m told to repeat.
I know that choice I have to make,
And the path for my feet.
But, I’m stuck on this road.
All alone, and oh so cold.
I’m stuck on this…
Black path of pavement and concrete,
Of all my hopes,
My ideas,
And dreams.
I’m stuck on the pain,
The toil
The agony.
The lack of faith.
The absence of belief.
That is what I see.”

That is what I see
When I ask
“In whom do you believe?”
I look into their eyes
Listen to the hurt and emptiness
Consumed and drenched by the lies.
I listen and try to understand
Can this be true?
Are they talking about the same man?
After I notice their eyes begin to recede,
I suddenly break their dismal concentration
Enough for them to see.
There’s a road up on the left.
Right in front of that tree.
There’s an intersection on the right
With a store and a place to eat.
I point out each path.
Each option and choice.
I tell them this road is not their only chance.
They still have a voice.
At this point
The conversation takes a U-turn for the best.
I see a shaft of light spark their hearts,
And bright hope for life light their chest.
I see, that they see.
There is away from this road.
There are so many paths to take.
And it’s all up to them as to where they will go.
I rest back in my seat.
Surprised once again
That there are still those
Who do not believe enough to see.
There are ways and trails,
That lead to anywhere they wish to be.
Yet they remain on their roads
Complaining about their lives,
And wishing they too could be free.
“Oh this road is so, so long…
…where is the relief.”

When will they see?
When will they believe?