trodden path

upon a well-trodden path i stroll
pick a pebble from nearby knoll
i place it in my pocket deep
as a memory is a treasur’d keep

each new day my pocket bears more
all tiny stones from times before
but many more shall come my way
each moment lit in Spirit’s ray

one pocket full, to the other less weary
a satisfied life in a deep-stone quarry
O how I dream forward and rest in the past
but most of all, it is today I wish to last

pockets now full on comes beckoning sleep
feeling tired, so on to respite deep
looking upon my stones to recall
a life God gave – now to Him I fall.

(c)2015 rick stassi