Which Path Should He Take?
Helen Dowd

Last night a man had a vision:
He was troubled by what he had seen.
He trembled, and in his sub-conscious,
Wondered, "What could this vision mean?"

He had ventured upon a long journey,
Down a road that was foreign and strange.
On one side he viewed a deep valley,
On the other, a high mountain range.

In his quandary, he considered his options:
Climb the mountain? Or go down the ravine?
Perplexed, he stood there a'trembling--
Then suddenly, he heard dreadful screams.

Oh, he wished he could wake from this nightmare.
What could this horrendous dream mean?
It was like he was watching a movie
On a TV, with an exceptionally large screen.

Out of nowhere there appeared two long bridges.
He pondered which one he should take?
He stopped. He had to consider.
It was imperative! A right choice he must make.

The bridge to the right looked restrictive.
It was narrow and not very bright.
He wondered, "Where are all the travellers?"
There weren't too many in sight.

The path to that bridge looked unappealing.
So he turned the other way.
His heart then was filled with excitement:
This bridge was wide, bright, and gay.

There were hundreds and hundreds of people.
"Come and join us!" the crowd seemed to say.
He hurried down the path to the entrance,
Scrutinizing the sign on the gate.

It read, "BROADWAY, The Bridge to Great Pleasure--
The way to your ultimate fate."
The travellers were shouting and dancing.
No longer need he contemplate.

As he stood there, he heard a voice whisper:
"I'M THE WAY. Don't make the wrong choice.
Although this bridge may be narrow,
At the end you'll have cause to rejoice."

He then saw an ethereal glowing . . .
Heard singing like he'd not heard before.
But he still was in a great quandary:
Which bridge leads to the right door?

The man looked again at his choices:
The bridge to earthly profits and gain?
Or that road with the soft glow and whisper?...
"FOLLOW ME." He heard it again.

He turned. He followed the whisper.
The bridge to the left faded out.
He held out his hand and Christ took it.
No longer had he any doubt.

And then he saw a new image:
He could view to the end of the bridge.
To his horror he witnessed folks falling.
That bridge fell short of the edge.

"Oh God!" He heard anguished crying:
"The bridge was so bright and so gay.
If only we'd heeded Your whisper,
When You said: "Follow Me. I'M THE WAY."

But those on that bridge to destruction:
Had made their ultimate choice.
"Too late! Oh, too late!" Was their outcry:
"If only we'd heeded that VOICE!"

The man awoke from his nightmare.
He was trembling from what he had seen.
Was it real? Or was this an illusion
To remind him of what could have been?

For a moment he lay in confusion.
Then he jumped from his bed with a shout.
"Oh I know I have chosen the RIGHT BRIDGE!
Praise the Lord! I have no further doubt!"

Now he tells all his friends and relations
Of the vision he had on that night.
He wants to make certain they enter
The BRIDGE with the heavenly light.

Helen Dowd


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