For Those Wandering Along the Way

For Those Wandering Along the Way

Ryan Diaz

These are the songs we sing on the way;
Through valley-glades and desert moors,
Across chaos-waters to distant shores,
In the dead of night with frosty chill,
Across sun-scorched earth and hardened clay,
These are the songs we sing on the way.
Taught to us by mothers old,
Glimmering bright with gilded gold,
Woven from the ancient spells,
Knit with the words of Psalms, we pray,
These are the songs we sing on the way.
Mortal tales of eternal life,
A chance of hope amid the strife,
A beacon found on ancient fells-
In the twilight before the day,
These are the songs we sing on the way.
Sung aloud with notes of liberation,
Sounding like a prophet’s declaration,
All things new, all things well,
Winter always breaks for May,
These are the songs we sing on the way.
A candle burning mid the black,
Guiding us with faded maps,
Till we stumble through the door
And find a bed on which to lay,
These are the songs we sing on the way.
Take up now thy holy words,
Hum with me this sacred dirge,
Hold it deep within your soul,
For when you don’t know what to say,
These are the songs we sing on the way.

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Ryan Diaz
Poet & Theologian

Photography by Cara & Justin Steinebach