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I hear the sermon
From the pulpit cried,
Tracts on my door appear.
Books and creeds
Everywhere abound
That attempt to make
The way more clear.

But I learn each day
Like the fire-shocked child
That the Way is rarely plain.
We learn to balance
Love and fear
Lay aside desire and hate
A caring heart the true touch-stone,
Wisdom’s road is fenced with pain.

There are those
Who have written down
Their wisdom as they see it
But each must find
His own rocky road
Listen to that still small voice
That speaks hard truth:  So be it!

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