Crossing the Moor

Beneath an ancient redwood tree that towered o'er the moor

A grave, a stone, and barren ground lay pointing toward the Shore,

And near the grave, a wretched sight, an old man, worn and grey

Distressed in every shape and form, eyes upturned heaven's way,

Yes, he realized, I am gone. Yes, the final life song done,

The sun eclipsed, dark'ning the sky, how cold it all now hung!

Horizon drenched with thick, black clouds, which prowled the heav'n alone

These firmamental beings looked on, on, and on, and on,

And saw a poor man walking there, who seemed to drown in loss,

Now reach a River, stop mid-stride to see Life as it was,

And turning eyes upon himself, he stood against the wind

Upon the belly of the Moor, all eyes on him, he held:

If I, a man who's handled much, cannot this burden bear,

Then Who and what and when and where? Shall Life become a friend?

Here, incomplete in every way, just a man, now old, grey

True! I'm but one, but there's a Help! There's One who'll hold my hand!

So upward reached his withered hands and downward fell man's gaze,

As onward through the Stream he pressed, more tender grew his heart,

A smile on his face out broke as the Sun appeared again

He reached the shore in sin no more, a new and changed man,

True! Death calls, and true!death bells toll throughout the rugged moor

But truer still, a heart's been freed! A bright new day's at shore!

The Sun is up! The sky is bright! All storms shall one day cease!

His journey o'er, his goal attained, the man now rests in peace!

While on the moor all men do pause and hang their heads in shame,

For who are they to fall and sleep? All men must bear their name,

And 'cross the waves their eyes upheld, past ocean deep and strong,

A fresh new name! a life sans shame! hope waiting in a song!

So, there, with great, victorious shout, they charge across the Moor,

'Till each should reach the River's shore, they shine, descend, and soar!