Who knows what sort of thing will happen next?
Each time I've gone from you a moment's come
Where I have lost my way down crooked roads
And lost the way to where I started from.
So then: no map, no compass for a guide,
I step onto the road and I begin.
Who knows what sort of thing will happen next?
I'm ready--and you bid me enter in.
My God, my Way: I've wandered and I'm lost.
But I've come to understand that on my own
The road signs are deceptive, and the path
Is one I do not like and have not known.
So then: I will repent and start anew.
You open doors, make straight the paths I need.
Who knows what sort of thing will happen next?
I'll be content to follow where you lead.
postscript
Not amazing... but written in fifteen minutes at a rock concert. I think I got the point across: just basic wondering about what God has for me next, and trying to remember to stay on the RIGHT road.