The Wall

I’ve tried so hard to manage things,
And make them work by pulling strings

I’ve tried so hard to manage things,
And make them work by pulling strings.
I’ve laid my plans and thought up schemes
To seal my fortune, catch my dreams,
But efforts clever and well-planned
Could not secure them to my hand.

I reached a wall of solid rock,
Which proved a most effectual block.
It stopped the course I’d tried to run,
And screamed in silence, “Now be done!”
Too high to climb, too tight to crawl,
I had no choice but face the wall.

With nowhere now to run or hide,
Nor any outlet for my pride,
I had to face reality,
And let my life and fortune be.
The wall with adamantine force
Had stopped my crazy, wilful course.

I stood, my spirit almost dead,
Until a nudging turned my head,
And opened to my curious eyes
A gentle, but a sweet surprise
Without my planning, aid, or thought
I found a path I’d never sought.

No running now; no cunning ways;
Just quiet peace and thankful praise.
My energy, my heart, my will
Are channelled in their efforts still,
But something’s different; something’s new
In everything I feel and do.

Nita Brainard