Diary Entry 5

The path is trodden

below my feet.

I've traveled it

so many times;

its course predictable;

the stones placed;

yet every time

I come this way

I hope to find Your face.

Your presence,

I once sensed;

Your strength, I did taste.

Yet the fog won't settle;

the forest is dense,

and I long for

the sweet sound

of Your voice that I 

so long ago misplaced.

Now at a crossroads,

I stubbornly stand;

for I've made

this turn before.

I know the whispers 

that in the trail are bore.

Yet, with every tattooed step I take

I continue to hope

in Your arms I wake.

Your presence, I can sense;

Your strength, I can taste.

Now the fog is settling;

the forest remains dense,

and I feel near the sweet sound

of Your voice that I 

so long ago misplaced.

On the precipice with

arms opened wide;

I will wait for the floods

to vanish with the ceasing tides.

There I know The Way

exposed before my feet;

for I know no matter how far I travel

down this beaten path;

without fail, my battered faith

unto You will forever fleet.

Your presence, I now sense;

Your strength, I now taste.

The fog forever settled;

the forest no longer dense;

and I hold dear the sweet sound

of Your voice that I 

so long ago misplaced.