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Poetry by Joyce C. Lock
© 2002 by Joyce C. Lock dalox@comteck.com

Things Aren't Always
What They Seem

 A voice crying in the wilderness,
"Help make my path straight."
For one who is lame
Can't make if through the gate.

A heart full of pain.
A life full of woe.
None sought his name.
Where else could he go?

Falling on his knees,
Making prayer his aim -
Then came the MASTER,
Who led him through the flame.

Tears of sorrow vanished,
When paths were made straight.
Never to be the same,
Walking through Heaven's gate.

 Romans 10:20

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