Buffeting winds! Blades of ice.
Light of a candle calls you
Courage and strength both fail
Hope and joy released as birds
Shadows of warmth cruelly mock you –
Knees give way to an endless descent
With final breath, you cry out
From the bottomless pit of death.
But what is this?
Not oblivion, but … a step
Suspended on air!
A stairway stretches before you,
And the top – the same distant flame
Flickering against the velvet black.
How insurmountable! Yet occasionally
A hand pulls, pushes, lifts –
Until you find yourself back on the edge of the precipice.
With love, they gently raise you
Feet on solid ground
And you embrace the revelation:
The door never opened was truly ignored.
Flickering candle turns to blazing bonfire.
And you are guided by a thousand hands.
Poetry Copyright © 2020 – 2023 by Ena Whiteraven All rights reserved.