Early morning on a back road outside of Rexburg, Idaho.
The Wall
by Rachel Schoeny
Sometimes it snows
And snows
And snows.
“Where’s the end?” We cry out
But nobody knows.
It doesn’t stop,
And our spirits, they drop
As the wall grows higher
And higher
And higher
Until we can’t see
And we call God a liar.
And patiently He sits,
Waiting for us to see
The beautiful sunrise just beyond our decree
For the winter to halt it’s cold, candid cruelty.
But finally we choose
To open our eyes
And our hearts start to weep
In wondrous surprise
As the sight that was there
But was hidden from view
Becomes so much bigger
And we remember, He knew.
