The Wall
C.L. Gingerich
The wall built before me reaches to the sky
And
wavers not against the wind
As like the wall is my weariness of
late
Climbing up and up into madness
My bones are tired and
my feet are sore
From my strenuous pacing at the foot of the wall
There is a ditch where I have treaded
Dug so deep from my
constant toiling
I cannot see the sunlight from where I stand
In
this trench of my anxieties
Author's Note: These past two weeks, I was on a mission trip in the Dominican Republic. It was challenging to my faith, but it has shown me a lot of myself (the good and the bad). God is always gentle when he administers his grace and judgment.
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