There is a road inside of you …

… inside of me there is one too.

Following is a post I had written and set aside, drawn now to release it.

Early one morning, just after Christmas last year, I checked my email, finding a link and a question from my cousin in Texas. “Have you heard of this band?” … with a link to Wikepedia and “Petra.”

The name was familiar, though dusty … but a quick search revealed the door to the attic. It was a Christian rock band I listened to long, long ago when I was in my late 20’s. Curious, I wanted to see which songs would strike a chord, so I searched a bit further, with a bit more dust taking to the air with each memory enlivened. As I looked at the names of the songs, there was one that jumped out at me … The Road to Zion.

As I listened, my spirit began to move. Indeed, I love this singer’s voice, but there was more. Much more.

As the lyrics flowed into the air on the waves of a sweet melody, I was quickly reminded of the Golden Thread. In an earlier post, Edwin Steinbrecher, an astrologer/occultist, spoke of the Kingdom being within … and then I was led to this song. Intriguing … and illuminating, if we don’t snuff the spark before it has a chance to burn. Ah yes, burn. And if allowed, what will it burn away … that a new growth may have a clearing to flourish within?

(If you so desire, you may listen for yourself.)

There is a way that leads to life,

The few that find it never die.

Past mountain peaks, graced white with snow,

The way grows brighter as it goes.


There is a road inside of you.

Inside of me there is one too.

No stumbling pilgrim in the dark.

The road to Zion’s in your heart.

The river runs beside the road.

Its waters living as they flow.

In liquid voice the water calls.

On thirsty knees the pilgrim falls.


Sometimes a shadow, dark and cold,

Lays like a mist across the road.

But be encouraged by the sight.

Where there’s a shadow, there’s a light.


Sometimes its good to look back down.

We’ve come so far, we’ve gained such ground.

But joy is not in where we’ve been.

Joy is who’s waiting at the end.


For me, I hear a call to the narrow hallways into each man’s heart. No one can go for another, though we can most assuredly offer encouragement. For me, it matters not what one calls the destination, the journey, or how one describes the landscape of the path unto the gate. For me, I desire to know the essence … and I walk. I have a sense that’s what matters …

But then again, perhaps it matters not, for we will each go where we must …

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