The
Journey's End
By Jan Antonsson
Words call me from my sleep, harbingers of the dawn,
powerful, crashing, stone on rock, preparing me to move on.
What have I to say of this? What must I do, O' Lord, to find your perfect way?
"Faith, my child; my faith it is which calls you.
My faith will not let you stay and take your comfort
in words you know, in doctrines which delight and please.
I will lead you on the path which you travel on your knees.
The way up is always down through thorns and thistles sore,
but I will show you how to go, and lead you through the door.
All mankind will come along, grasping, searching for that place
where you will never hunger when you meet me face to face."
