The Way to Heaven

The way to heaven, steep, paved with thorn, Compacted with crosses, those who mourn. Like Israel’s way found in desert bleak, Fleeing Egypt, its black furnace reek. Like Jonathan and armor-bearer On toward the foe pressed ever nearer; Crept they on all four, A jagged, flinty floor ’Neath; and all around, thistle and briar, While above, mountain cliff and craggy spire. So heaven is reached thru toil and pain, Troubles, trials pressing on amain; With blood, sweat, tears, tension and...