A man believed his legs were strong,
They'd carried him this far.
Through difficulties, great and small,
That left nary a scar.
He took each step with confidence,
And rarely knew defeat.
Then he looked back upon his path
When his life was complete.
In his wake were many pitfalls,
A strange sight to behold.
There were pot holes and stumbling blocks,
Where once lay streets of gold.
He asked the Lord how this could be,
"This path, I don't recall."
It was an unfamiliar road,
Which he knew not at all.
"My son," the Lord said, "can't you see?
You were not on your own.
Faced with your greatest obstacles,
You did not walk alone."
"I was there each time you faltered,
And would not let you fall.
I led you past each obstruction,
And over every wall."
The man began to understand,
Then looked back at his road.
Many times he would have stumbled,
Had God not born the load.
For when his strength began to fail,
Bled dry from every limb,
He fell into God's open arms,
And the Lord carried him.
No matter what encumbered him,
His path was always sound.
Life's pitfalls couldn't topple him,
Despite unsteady ground.
When the greatest hearts grow weary,
And legs begin to fall.
From there we shall be carried by
The strongest legs of all.
This poem was a finalist in the June 2021 poetry contest