"A beautiful poem found by Chris Morris in her mother Jean's special box. She wanted it shared with us all. Enjoy."

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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.

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