I took a little time, to wander from the way,
I’d walked for most my life, a path that people say,
Where God could be most found,
If I would walk and pray.
I wonder if the sand, and trees and rocks and seas,
Were special on the path, that people told me please,
“Stay straight and narrow on the way, if healthy or diseased.”
Or maybe rocks, and sand, are the same if here or there,
Perhaps the strain I walked, is not my own despair.
The troubles that I faced for God,
Could be religious dare.
So I took a little time, to find another place,
To stop the walk and pause, to look God in the face.
But what I saw was not the light, or Church’s stained glass grace.
What I saw was only rocks, and sand, and trees and open space.
I spun around in panic to find my well worn trail.
My vision dizzied in my dance as I pursued my tail.
The ground grew bumps and shifted out as I spun round and round.
Flat on my back I looked straight up, and heaven looked back down.
The shaky ground was still right there, like solid rock, and sand.
The frantic thoughts of misplaced paths, were made by my own hand.
And there as always, made for me was God’s first voice and land.
The things he spoke when time first ticked, the rocks and trees... and man.
I took a little time, to look up in the sky.
The paths I’d walked and things I’d seen with my own wandering eye,
Were good and human, not too big,
I smiled and breathed a sigh.
God is the rocks and sand and trees, He is the reason why.
I lay right here and rest my knees, and fear not if I die.
He will not fade no matter what, the path of man might be.
He is my rock, my sand, my sea, He is my solid tree.