Thought
If roads are smooth and path-ways clear
We whistle tunes and smiles appear,
But when our paths turn dusty grey
We cross the lines and lose our way.
Boundaries are made and standards met,
To help mind’s compass needle set
Naughts and crosses games are played,
With new patterns, goal is not delayed.
These lines are penned and many more,
That you may cross the rocky shore
Over bumpy rides and restless tossing,
Criss-cross lines are just road crossing.
Prayer
O Companion Lord, I feel you carry me Yourself and show me the way when I feel lost. You have given map and compass and set me on the way. May we see you as the Way, the Truth and the Life.
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