Uphill

Our individual journeys along the unique byways that our life leads us, should on reflection, give insight to many wonderful experiences. Amongst the many wayfarers we are bound to meet there will beautiful people, loving people, people who inspire and lead. Of course there will also be quite a few others! 

This journey, however and by whom it is undertaken is seldom easy nor straight-forward.  My dear old mother, bless her cotton socks, told me very early on that in her belief, this world was but a school for what comes next. We need to do the best we can, in this world, and learn from our inevitable mistakes and blunders. We will all, at some stage, stumble on our journey. 

In light of what I have written, above, I offer this simple poem that my mother loved – and which I too love.  

Uphill

Does the road wind uphill all the way?

    Yes, to the very end.

Will the day’s journey take the whole day long?

    From morn to night my friend.

But is there for the night a resting place?

    A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.

May not the darkness hide it from my face?

     You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?

    Those who have gone before.

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?

    They will not keep you waiting at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel sore and weak?

     Of labour you shall find the sum.

Will there be beds for me and all who seek?

     Yea, beds for all who come.

                                                Christina Rossetti