And few to ask the way.

Though the journey’s not far, only a remnant come,

    And they, He said, start out blind.

He has endless means for revealing His path—

    He’s the Shepherd who calls to His own;

Though His call hits rampant impairment

    (Do we have ears to hear?),

He calls and calls and calls and calls,

    And His words come—with power to clear.

Therefore, moments of awakening come,

    though, at times, we can’t stay in the light.

Nevertheless, the hearts He has knit with recovered sight

    Converge with Him at the pass:

The deaf He restored, blind He healed

    Come praising, exalting their Lord!

He’s made them priests in His vineyard,

    now fearless to fill their horn;

Unnerving in their compassion,

    Clear trumpets for those being born.