My Path

My fingers, busy with their tasks,
Pursue a homely round
Of never-ending, weary work;
My lagging feet seem bound.
But, oh! I know a secret path
That foot has never trod,
Where I may take my troubled thoughts
And walk and talk with God.

As Moses talked, I talk with Him;
His thoughts, forever true,
Dispel the dream, and I behold
The man of perfect hue.
O Father, Mind, Thou art my Life,
And I abide in Thee,
Though bound my feet, my thoughts may take
The way to liberty.

And I shall serve with loving hands
And help to till the sod,
That other men may find the path
That leads them home to God.

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.