FRIEND

Whilst wandering this bitter wilderness,

Whose sand abrades and by whose rock I bled,

Among dry thorns and evidence of death

I come to Thee because I need Thy help

To turn my feet from their disordered trends

Down Egypt’s way to pungent tastes and smells

My soul still craves when guided by my flesh,

Down subtle tracks forged to avoid the dearth

Whose termini would vitiate my health,

Or up the track that Hormah represents -

Fleshly essays at heavenly ascents -

Since I am lost without Thee as my Friend.