Like Planets

The Trackless Path

The circle turns round and round.

The soul of man is drawn toward God

Then falls into decay. And round and round,

And up and down it turns, but not quite.

It is more like the orbit of planets around a sun,

Not a perfect circle, but an imperfect eliptical pattern.

Out it flys away from the souce of life

And into the cold unfeeling void.

Then at it’s outward limit

It turns back toward

The source of life

Hurdled by the need for warmth

And draws as close as it can get without

Being burned in the brightness of the sun’s glory.

And for a season they rejoice in each other.

Until the planet, once again, feels the need

To wander far from home

And gain experience.

And round and round it goes.

And such is the journey of the soul.

We like to think that it is an all an upward path to glory.

But we forget that even He who rose to be

On the right hand of The Eternal

First had to wander far

Into the depths

Of the cold black night, an there be forsaken by the warmth

Before He was able to make his way back home.