These little creeks called human love
Are but a shadow from above
Constrained to follow winding course
They draw the battle lines by force
Sometimes they’re joyful, sometimes dashed
Some seem so stable, others trashed
Threading his way through rocky zone
Right at the end, man feels alone
The path was narrow, hard to walk
There never was an end
Dark night and pains, no need to talk
God seemed so far away
The devil ‘s presence always there
To keep the pilgrim small
His darts of flame hurt deeply, though
His threats they oft appall
Like a blank sheet of paper
Perfected by His scraper
The new man knows not who he was
Before he has been freed for cause
It seems there never was a man
Who thought of sin and how he can
Escape from this life’s evil fates
And find on earth safe haven’s gates
That open up and help him run
From wickedness and all that’s done
By man who knows not what will be
As soon as God has set him free
Behold, His Kingdom’s Promised Land
Is reached by those who understand
That it has always been that close
As their own breath is to their nose
🙂
Susanne Schuberth's Poetry 