The Tightrope

They say the way is narrow and lined with rocks.

It's narrow alright, and on either side, a terrifying chasm.

It's a rickety bridge of ropes and broken boards,

And at the canyon's bottom, sharp rocks and rushing water,

But my Lord is holding my hand.

He's walking with me, carrying me,

And I am trying not to look down.

He asks me, gently, to fix my eyes on him

As he leads me across this tightrope

Above the neverending abyss.

He whispers that I will not fall,

And commands his angels to guard below.

I do not know the way,

Or how long it will take,

Or how much more difficult the journey will be.

But I do know that I can close my eyes,

And worry not, because he is with me always.

My Lord will lead me home.