Strolling up green grassy hill,
and through forest in summer breeze.
I come upon two paths
leading both high and low.
One is wider, and the other is narrow.
Like paths of life,
paths of choice.
Before me.

Which shall I take?

The wider, the easier, the popular?
Upon which many shall tread.
The path of comfort.
The path of man's approval.
The path.
Of the soul's dead?

Or shall I take the straight, the narrow,
upon which few shall travel.
The path of self-denial.
The path of suffering.
The Way of the Cross.
The Way.
Of Life.
The narrow path of trial and difficulty.
Upon which few shall walk with me.

The narrow, straightened Way.
The Way of Glory.
The Way of Eternity.
Where my Good Shepherd travels
side by side with me.

Which path shall I choose?
I have already chosen it.
When I lost what I did love so dear.
And replaced it with comparing
all things as loss,
compared to knowing Christ my Lord.

I have chosen the narrow path.
The path upon which few travel.
For me it is the only Way.
To Life.