GOLDEN WALKWAYS

I want stillness as I journey
And peace within my aging soul;
Roses with no thorns that bite,
And see the race become a stroll.

Remove, Dear Lord, this stone from me,
Replace, instead, a garden path.
Place my feet where flowers grow
And keep them absent from your wrath.

If things I seek, they cannot be,
Then place assurance on my soul,
That when this journey I see end…
On golden walkways, I will stroll.