The Straight Way
As I go grey, as I grow old,
And read through the book of my life,
All I see is a tale unfold
Of waste and shame, of storm and strife.
Where’s it all gone, I wonder, where
The hopes and the dreams and the striving?
— Gone with old wounds, the wear and tear,
And the vanity fair of living.
Now just as I began to sink
Into despair, there came to me
One who gave my soul to drink
The breastmilk of eternity.
Whispered that Voice: ‘Gone, gone the past!
And gone the terrors of the night.
By crooked ways we come at last
To the Straight Way and the kind light.
Eat the bread of understanding.
Run the race and do your duty.
Learn to die, sitting or standing.
Seek in silence the sacred beauty.’