A pilgrim takes his staff And sets out, place by place, To reach the heavenly land, The Lord promised his heirs. Happily he anticipates the goal, Shoulders pressed by the cross, Faith demands him to carry And His Word points the way. The heavy load forces a rest, Exhausted he lays it on bocks, Saws off at the bottom center And proceeds with firm steps. The pilgrimage is light and good, He stands at the river of atonement And a brother throws his long cross As a dry bridge across the waters. His however falls a length too short And he calls the brother for help, Him: 'What part did you saw off?' He: 'The one of social responsibility.'
back Anonym (ed) 2012 - 2010