The Compass
By Michael R. DeCamp
Born, endless roads
yet unfollowed
The paths of life still
mine to travel
Pain and strife beset
those before me
Threatening foggy trails
of upheaval
“Love God,” your
words were like a compass
Pointing my heart
like a needle
Parting the clouds to
the horizon
For toddling feet,
the trail was level
A child is too young
to travel alone
A star was sent to
light my way
Not my mother, she guided
none the less
She enlightened the
path into the fray
I walked and grew,
grew and walked
Not yet a man, no
longer a boy
The road had forks, enticing
diversions
Compass forgotten, life
to enjoy
Friends were sent to
set my foot right
Words of faith,
friendship, and direction
“Do you believe?” they
asked “Will you keep walking?”
“Oh yes,” I said,
immersed in reflection
Retrieving my
compass, I cast my eyes forward
The road is long, and
not for the sprinter
“I see it!” I
said. “I know where I’m going!”
The horizon comes on
without drawing nearer
Alone on the road, I
was given a heart
A heart to hold, cherish,
or squander
“Will you?” I
asked. “I will,” she replied
“I’ll hold it,” I
said, “and cherish it yonder”
We took up the path,
walking together
United both hearts
and minds
Soon, we were four
and onward we traveled
Compass in mind, but forgotten
sometimes
The road became dusty
and hard to decipher
Sometimes it would wind,
rise, and wander
Sometimes it grew
lonely, dusty, and scattered.
“Am I going the right
way?” I would pause and wonder
I have traveled that
road from there to here
The forks still
enticing as ever
But, I’ve still not
reached my true destination
The road stretches on,
and on; seems forever
I no longer claim to
know its end
And still the path
sometimes grows gray
But, when I’m unsure,
not knowing the next step…
You stoop to my ear,
whisper, and say:
“Look higher my son,
and remember your compass.”
Dedicated to:
Emma Ogletree, the “Star”
who introduced me to church
Mike Runcie &
Neil Parsons, the youth ministers who “set my foot right”
Nancy DeCamp, the “Heart”
I will always “cherish”
And especially dedicated to…
Ralph R. DeCamp, my
father, and the man who gave me my “Compass.”
L to R: Mike DeCamp, Ralph DeCamp, David DeCamp |