The policeman:
"How do you get to the cross?" we asked him. **
Standing there, bluecoated, official.
"Don't know," he said.
"Never been there," he said, and waved us on.
The waitress:
"How do you get to the cross?" we asked her.
"I think there's a road somewhere," she smiled
And filled our coffee cups,
And turned away.
The service station:
We stopped again, ardent in our search.
"We need help," we said. "The cross,
Can you tell us how to get to the foot of the cross?"
The policeman didn't know.
And the waitress didn't know.
"Can you tell us how to get to the cross?"
He laughed. "Been here all my life," he said.
"No one has ever asked me that. Sorry."
We left the station.
Turning, we saw the cross
And realized, and understood.
You get there by keeping your eye on the cross
And starting on your way.
You can correct your path every day.
Lord, help us realize that following Jesus
We follow not only in green valleys
And still waters.
We follow through the valley of shadows
And some day reach a cross.
Amen.