The Mountain
Two men abreast
Walked life's long road,
Each with stories
Like the other had told.
They spoke of hills
And also of vales,
Both triumph and misery
Cluttered their tales.
But no tale could compare
To the one still to be,
A mountain enormous
Afar off they could see.
At the foot of the mount stood they nervously.
"I'm a righteous man,"
Said the first man irate.
"I've toiled already
To reach Heaven's Gate.
Yet if God requires,
Then with faith I will move
This mountain enormous,
My goodness to prove."
So he sat himself down
And closed both his eyes
To use his faith
Till he'd reached his prize.
To stand with God and rise.
"My faith is not whole,"
Said the second man then.
"I've lived too much
In the world of men.
But this mountain enormous
My God giveth me
And only by crossing
Can I hope to be free."
So he picked up his feet
And started to climb.
He banished all thoughts
Of fear from his mind.
Conscious only of his waning time.
The sleet and the snow
Piled up in his way,
But the man would not stop
Until night followed day.
He was harried and worn,
But his light still shone bright.
A prayer in his heart
Kept him warm through the night.
When dawn lit the sky
The man saw he was done.
At the end of the path
Stood the Savior, the Son.
He got to his feet and started to run.
"I'm sorry, my Lord,"
The man said between tears.
He suddenly knew
All his failures and fears.
"My faith can not be
Like the other man's was.
I could never move mountains
The way that he does."
Without a sound
The man let himself fall.
The Lord knew him well.
The Lord knows all.
In silence he began to crawl.
"Where do you go?"
Said the Lord to the man.
"I know your heart's good,
For when you saw me you ran.
And as to the mountain
Which you claim you've not moved,
Was it not once before you
And now stands removed?"
The man looked and saw
That the Savior spoke true.
He had done what he'd thought
He never could do.
"Thy faith hath seen thee through."