"A beautiful poem found by Chris Morris in her mother Jean's special box. She wanted it shared with us all. Enjoy."
No Other Way.
Could we but see the pattern of our days,
We would discern how devious were the ways
By which we came to this, the present time,
This place in life: and we should see the climb
Our soul has made up through the years.
We should forget the hurts, the wanderings, the fears;
The wastelands of our life and know
That we could come no other way or grow
Into our good without these steps our feet
Found hard to take, our faith found hard to meet.
The road of life winds on, and we like travellers go
From turn to turn until we come to know
The truth that life is endless and that we
Forever are inhabitants of all eternity.