The Precipice Poem by Alexander Beebe

The path well worn of souls gone by, near the bottom open wide.
I move with ease cross rock and twig, my breath is strong no labor paused.
At first I see large bark on trees, with lots of voices in the charge,
I’m one of many on this mountain, aimed at God who rests on high.

Middle ground the trees are thinner, fewer voices break in sound.
Shadows upward SON is rising, beads of sweat now on the brow.
My thoughts still strong of higher places, yet to meet me on the way.
I see the sight of those retreating, anguished looks upon their face.

The shade now gone, the SON above me, rocks are amplified in size.
The task ahead still begs to meet me, God still calls to see me try.
I yearn for water on my tongue the water that will give me life.
No trouble in my path will beat me if I keep my focus right.

The path now narrow few are on it, and I cry and wonder why.
The Precipice that lies before me, bridged with gold and endless life.
The climb was strained and not all easy, such the case with many trial.
We have the choice to climb it with Him, which God carries many mile.