The Old Road

It is a very long road
A weary
Dusty
Troubled
Often lonely way
And I am far from the end
Though I will surely expire
Before does the road.

An ancient road
Its surface is grooved
By wheels of carts
The countless steps
Of pilgrims preceding me.

Along the byway
Scatter dispossessed things
By other travelers before me.
Indeed
I have forsaken things
Once thought priceless
Now considered rubbish
In order to achieve the summit.

I have been a pilgrim
A very long time.
There were moments
I exulted in the fellowship
Of other travelers.
Some have concluded
Their journey.
Many sought
Diversions
Abandoning their trek.
A few walk beside me still
Though their numbers
Seem to wane
As the way grows
Dim
Upward
And perilous.

There have been opportunities
To join a broader way
A more easily traversed path
But I know
Those are ways to
Destruction
Traveled by wanderers
Whose god is their belly.

In the far distance
Glow the lights
Of a bright city.
Its gates always open.
Welcome waits
Every journeyer
Who completes his path.

Someday
I will walk
Into that city
Where a place for me
Has been prepared.

That knowledge
Lightens my load
Quickens my step
And encourages me.

Today my assignment
Is to walk the old road
The path of
Righteousness
The way of life.

Walk awhile
With me
My friend.
It is a good day
To trek.