So many roads lead upward to the fount of Love;
So many reasons set one's feet upon the path.
How was it once with you?
Was there a day when through the window of your heart
You glimpsed a view of God so stunning fair
You scarce could trust its truth;
And so, to see it better, opened wide die door
And wonderingly walked through?
Or did the terror of some tempest
Send you stumbling down the only path of hope,
Where, mute with fear, you found the Father waiting there?
For each his reason, cloistered in the silent past . . . .
And still—
Whatever turned you to the quest of God,
Whatever revelation held you there,
Because you once were newly come to Him yourself,
You understand all others newly come—
The searching thought, corroding fears, recurring doubts,
The dallying by the way, perhaps,
When feet should run and leap with joy.
Because you too have walked that way,
How natural is your hand outstretched to strengthen him
Who lingers on the threshold of his first small step
toward God!
And, knowing now full well the route to Love,
You urge him, "Come!"
