I’ll Take You Through

The way is dusty, twisty, slippery, narrow.
You cling to the mountain’s edge,
And ruts, gouges, treacherous holes
Threaten to catch your feet and wrench your ankles.
The way is sidelined and ceilinged with poking, choking,
grabbing, thorny branches.
The way is steep, your motion heavy, dragging.
Your head is down – you cannot see.
But I know the way.
Hold on tight.
I’ll take you through.

I’ll strengthen your legs; I’ll measure your gait.
I’ll synchronize your steps with mine, sure-footed.
I am your hovering, surrounding, impenetrable armor,
The force-field that shields you
From every probing, piercing thing encroaching.
When you think you cannot walk, I'll give you strength.
Keep pressing on.
Hold on tight.
I’ll take you through.

When you cannot walk, I’ll carry you,
Papa holding his little one close to his heart,
Your head on my shoulder,
In complete relaxation and peaceful rest.
I know the way. I am the Way.

When you grow faint and claustrophobic,
Now stumbling, oppressed to the point of losing heart,
I'll lift you to My shoulders, to rest and ride.
You can see now, adventures and challenges,
Trial-ways ahead, each one leading to another place of triumph.
You can see a little better, but only I can see all.
I know the way. I am the Way.
Hold on tight.
I’ll take you through