Ecce vel baculo torto fidelis rectam invenire potest angustum iter... JLR
Lo, even with a crooked stick, a believer can find the straight, narrow path.
Seasons of Mind, Body, Soul
IV
Starting life with a crooked stick in my hand,
with no plans, I traveled many crooked miles.
Trekking along dusty, winding country roads
over green-scaped meadows with many trials.
Sometimes by chance, that worn stick supported me.
When the path I took was too dark, steep, or rough.
Oftentimes, that crooked stick tripped me over.
Causing me to think, okay, I'd had enough.
But I kept walking onward every season.
With a crooked stick and worry on my face.
For some reason, I knew the stick was faithful,
to steady my pace, knowing life wasn't a race.
My soulish path was just like a crooked stick,
bending and twisting in unexpected ways.
Taking me places I never thought I'd seek.
It spurred the spirit in me to bellow Praise.
I had sleepless times when I felt lost or stuck,
whether this crooked stick my path forsake.
But I tested the process and tried my luck,
Trusting that this stick would never fail me.
My Spiritual path wasn’t like a straight stick,
But showed me the beauty of diversity.
It taught me to be humble and not too slick
It helped me embrace my true identity.
-------------finis-------------------
