Walk by His Voice
Light ran ahead of me as I walked through the door. Why was it behind me and not a guide before? I turned around, repentant, and rewalked the road, Thinking I was now doing as I had been told. But, now I was light-blind, I could not see my step, And stumbling I stopped still, halted; stumbling I wept. I waited, and waited, until His voice I heard Like a whisper, a breathe, hardly even a word: "Walk. Follow with your ears, not your eyes," He began. So I followed His voice, not my sight, and I ran. Sometimes light, before me, guided me on my way. Sometimes light, from behind, pushed back darkness with day. He was a lover, a refuge drawing me in. Sometimes He was warrior, and I served as His friend. Light behind, we both fought; Light before, we had rest. His voice, not my sight, was the true guide to His best.