It is late at night,
so dark you cannot see the path home,
and you are suddenly lost
in this place
that once felt familiar and safe.
There is a moment of paralysis,
Branches, whip-sharp, cut your shins.
More than once,
lost for the lack of landmarks
you once counted on
to show you the way back.
Slowly, the moon rises,
a brief circle of light, faint and small,
and at times, blocked by the limbs of trees.
It will rise, this moon.
It will rise and light a faint path.
It will show the way for the sun
and you will find home again,
your place of safety and warmth.
Your wounds will heal.
This is the way of things,
dark, and then always,
Next time, you vow, as the path grows clear,
you will bring a lantern,
your own light,
and join others lost in the night,
a defiance of the dark,
a reminder to all who see you
that they are never, ever
About this poem
Matthew 5:14-16 reads ” 14 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.15 Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”