Love
walks this
path barefoot
and thirsty for
certitude’s nectar;
she moves forward on feet
bruised and cut by stones of vain
desires for things crumbling to dust;
puts her trust in God, clings to His word;
she knows that sacrifice is faith’s own way.
The nightingales of longing sing among
the roses blooming beside love’s path;
as she walks the road of faith a
change occurs, she no longer
feels pebbles that cut and
bruise, but instead sees
in each stone the
hands of God
and His
face.
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