Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Final Destination

Four lanes of traffic —
Morning commute.
Lord, let there be more than this.
Lord, let Your will be done.

Where are they going?
Mothers and fathers,
Students and singles.
Lord, let Your will be done.

Faces in cars;
We’re in this together.
Where are they going?
Lord, let Your will be done.

By highways and byways,
Twists and turns,
Detours and accidents,
Lord, let Your will be done.

There’s a Final Destination,
A place that we must choose —
A heaven or a hell.
Lord, let Your will be done.

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