The Donkey and the Lake

Outside the main road, lies a little trail
Which leaps over boulders, and ducks under trees
At the end, rests a bridge, and over its rail
You might see a lake, whenever you please

At first, when I was young, I knew only how to wail
My dad took me on the trail, a journey to the lake.
With childish glee, I splashed and sailed
Adventuring through worlds, my mind could make.

Then, a little later, I grew a little older
I only stopped by, to honor my father.
For on my shoulders, sat large boulders
To stop running, would be a dishonor.

The morning came, and I grew a bit parched
Lazy like an ass, took things my pace
Passed the bridge, to the water I marched
Bent over to drink, and ignored my face.

Then around the main road, sprawled a desert,
I told others about the lake, in a garbled word barrage
But the others laughed, in a manner most unpleasant
“Look at this oaf, fooled by a mirage.”

So I stubbornly strode on the trail, with a pride sky high
My steps were glib, my vindication secure.
But the trail I walked, became so dry
I could not find the lake, my directions obscured

Discouraged and ashamed, I plod on forward,
Back to the main road, for to my horror
Some time ago, I’d become an ass.
The vultures mocked me, each taking a pass.

But the main road grew long, and I grew tired
Sprawled on the ground, in dust I lay mired
Then I remembered, that the trail to the lake
Wound up and around the woods, for my sake.

So I fumbled along the trail, stumbling and falling
Under my distress, praying and calling.
As I walked forward, it began to rain.
Stinging in my cuts, it soothes my pain.

Standing before the bridge, I find the lake.
A humble treasure, a holy place
Holding bread and cup, given for my sake
The fountain of life, a gift of grace.

Though I’m unworthy, Christ still chose
A donkey like me, to carry His prose.