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The Path

by Catherine Weeks

There is a path before me,
I know not where it leads.
Sometimes it's blocked by brambles,
Sometimes it's choked by weeds.

Sometimes it gently winds
O'er hills of scented flowers,
Along pure running streams,
Through hidden forest bowers;

Sometimes I walk in silence
Wrapped in philosophic thought;
Sometimes notes fill my heart
And songs of joy are wrought.

Often I share the road
With strangers or dear friends;
Then a bend brings loneliness
And I wish the road would end.

But then with budding hope,
Suddenly I recall,
Up, down, day or night
I'm never alone at all!

Whether the day is fair
Or storm clouds fill the sky,
In happiness or pain
There is Someone nearby.

He tenderly holds my hand,
We walk side by side,
He knows my thoughts and dreams;
In Him my hopes abide.

He laughs with me aloud
Or gently wipes my tears.
Gives me courage in the dark
Allaying all my fears.

My stumbles He will catch,
If I only hold Him tight,
My steps are firmly guided
By keeping Him in sight.

I may not know what lies
Around each curve ahead,
But in my heart I hold
To every word He's said.

There is a path before me
I know where it does wind.
Beyond the lovely river,
God's home is what I'll find.

This poem was a finalist in the February 2023 poetry contest

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