A Poem, by Chelsea Walker
It came, took me underground
Away from light, far from home.
I fought growing fog, yet
The world became darkest black.
Where are lights of endless stars?
Where, the guiding landscape?
What is this jagged rock which
Hangs, and juts at every turn?
From depths of deepest pain
My fists pound unrelenting stone,
But finding soon a tunnel there,
I will myself to walk alone.
I trip, stumble along the treacherous path
That seems to lead nowhere.
Who can see, with mortal eyes,
Beyond darkest black?
Desperation, fear–I cry into the night,
Who will help me out of here?
Comes soft reply,
“Hold My Hand, precious friend.”
Light illuminates my Otherworldly Guide.
Hand in His, I ask, “But, how?
How long until we reach the end?”
I sob with sadness fresh.
I do everything I can, to reach toward
The guide, which is My Savior’s Hand.
Only He is sure of how to exit this great void.
I force my eyes, focus, on the One Light,
Illuminating footsteps ahead.
Stumbling from time to time, I will not fall,
If still I clutch the Master’s Hand.
While walking, stumbling, I realize
Progress bit by bit.
Hope within me grows,
Though continuous the blackened pit.
Days, weeks, months, years
Steadily go on.
Joyously I realize a slow,
Steady change from darkest night to grayest dawn.
With faint illuminating light
Of sun’s bright, distant rays,
I learn that I can speed my pace
I now begin to run!
Emerging from the chasm
To glory of noon day
Within my heart burst gratitude, joy
Akin to none I’ve known.
Oh beautiful, great mountain!
Oh waving grass so glorious! Bird song most welcome!
Gentle breeze, a welcome kiss
On upturned face and outstretched arms.
Turning to my Guide, I see Him smile with gentle warmth.
My heart with peace o’erflows.
“My dearest friend,” He softly says,
“You’ve made it to the end.”