For many leagues she’s wandered on

Along the narrow Road;

Her weary limbs and aching heart 

Now sink beneath her load.

She kneels beneath the darkened sky,

The cold wind in her hair.

Bleak clouds have covered all the earth

And all that lingers fair.

Her hands are clasped, her eyes are wet,

They search the starless night,

Her soul lifts up its desperate plea

For any remnant light.

“How long, how long is left to wait?”

Her yearning silence cries.

“How long amidst these thorns and snares

Beneath these bitter skies?

“How long until this veil is gone,

Until the Sun’s Return?

How long must we endure and stand,

How long to search and yearn?”

The echoed longing of her heart

Sounds through humanity:

All across man’s waiting throng

Is voiced the throbbing plea.

“How much longer?” groans the earth

“Will these words be our song?

The burden will be borne away,

But oh, how long, how long?”

She lifts her eyes unto the sky

Where still the black clouds run:

Down through them strikes a shaft of light

A shadow of the Son.

Read next: To Live


Guest Writer

Selah Cross

the oldest of five homeschooled children, is a young writer who has been raised on stories since before she could read. Now that she can read — and write, also — she spends her days rejoicing in every form of the written word, delighting in the hope and wonder that story reveals in the living world, and discovering the reflected truth of the True Story in the most fantastical tales of imagination.




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