In life I've traveled highways
built by the hand of man
but always fell and stumbled
again and yet again
The lanes and sidewalks narrowed
as I paid time it's toll
until I reached a detour
around a gaping hole
I always had been cautious
obeying every sign
but now my gaze turned upward
I'd reached the finish line
And then I saw a highway
appearing from above
and saw the Master reaching
his hand to me with love
Today I travel gently
on paths that do not bend
well-worn by friends of Jesus
again and yet again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem