Steadfast

I believe in the old ways, from olden days, I give thanks to my god, for the road I've trod and the life I live

but also to my blessed ancestors for the guidance they give, my church is the stony river bank, the lonely shore at worlds end

the passing wind bends an ear and hears my prayers, I see my blessings in the night sky, and the stars keep the count, infinite

give me not the man made structure and all it's preaching, nae, for the old oak has done a fine job teaching me faith

the grassy meadow has given direction to my compass, and the becalmed lake to endure the torrents that are a part of wandering this wide world

I know not what lies ahead, what life had planned, but with the strength instilled by nature's nurturing hand, I'll steadfast make my stand

       A Rogues poem,  by Joseph Friend