Missionary

The door gapes dark,
a reminder of nightmares,
of dark dungeons that held you in thrall
for far too long,
of a mind heavy with fear,
black with lies of your weakness,
lies of your unworthiness,
chains that promised to hold you there
in the dimness forever.

But forever rarely is,
and you found your way out,
beyond the foul chains that bound you
and into the light.
You danced in the morning,
and sang hymns and bawdy tunes
with equal abandon,
finding your voice and your strength,

strength that is not for you alone.
All gifts are made to be given again,
and so you approach the dark door
that was once your prison.
You pray,
hoping the light that burns inside you
is strong enough
to lead another imprisoned soul
to their own sunlight dance.

About this poem

All of us who have been bound, no matter by what, and escaped, can be missionaries. We carry the light of our story to others who live in the same prison. It is something only those who have lived in darkness can do.

Tom