Diane writes: "I have been writing for several years. I can only do so though when the Lord leads me. I cannot just sit down and write a poem. Often the poems are a result of what we study in Sunday school or events, circumstances going on around me. I live in NC with my husband. We have two sons and a grandson."
The path ahead looks so inviting with it twists and turns,
though the end I cannot see;
Strolling closer the sun’s rays beam down on it,
unaware lurking shadows hide from me.
Indeed this must lead to the greener pasture I seek,
how could a path this lovely not be;
I’ll not go far, just a little way, surely there
I will find my heart’s desire and then I’ll be free.
It’s delightful! I hear a stream trickle and birds chirping
as the sun’s warmth bathes my face;
Flowers in rainbow colors are scattered in polka dot fashion,
their aroma like a scented embrace.
What has happened? The light and warmth are gone!
I’m now in darkness unable to see at all;
I go just a little further, I turn back, it’s too late
and into a black seemingly bottomless hole I fall.
Alone, bruised and filled with dread I realize
it was of my own choosing the Shepherd’s flock I fled;
I recall how He lovingly guided, protected and to green
meadows and quiet waters He gently led.
Now who will look for me, who would follow this path,
who will rescue me from this pit of despair?
I have no voice to call out, I’m too weak to try to
escape as in the mire I sink, is there no one aware?
Suddenly, I sense a presence but I cannot see;
I know someone’s there, have they come to rescue me?
I wait straining for a glimpse of my would be silent rescuer;
can they, will they, set this captive free?
A staff reaches down, from where it came I don’t know,
lifting me up though so fearful I’d be let go;
The ascent is slow and darkness is all I see;
will I make it to the top or find myself falling back in the pit below?
Finally, my feet touch on the earth above,
my eyes still blinded from the darkness I had been around;
A gentle hand begins to wash my wounds,
who was this rescuer who for me searched and found?
Weak and blinded I cannot walk or find my way out,
Who is this that carries me back to the pathway of light;
It is the Good Shepherd who left His flock to search for me
and found me in my darkest night.
(© 2017 Diane Hunter – All rights reserved. Written material may not be duplicated without permission.)