The Builder

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By Will Allen Dromgoole.

An old man going along a lone highway

Came at the evening, cold and gray

To a chasm, vast, deep and wide

Through which was flowing a sullen tide

The old man crossed in the twilight dim

But he turned when safe on the other side

And built a bridge to span the tide.

Old man, said a fellow pilgrim near,

You are wasting your strength in building here

Your journey will end with the passing day

And never again will you pass this way

You`ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide

Why build you this bridge at eventide?

The builder lifted his gray, weary head

Good friend, in the path I`ve come

There followeth after me today

A youth whose feet must pass this way

This chasm that has been naught for me

To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be

He too must cross in the twilight dim

Good friend, I am building this bridge for him.

Special thanks to Bro. David Hutcheon for forwarding this poem to me.