The Chase

I have been pale with terror,
Through the final shades of evening
Running fast into the dark,
Trying desperately to surrender
To the Morning Star.

One small rip in the fabric,
One tiny shred of open seam
Would allow scary cold inside
Would shake me through and through,
I tried hard to dodge the branches
Careful with my step

Careless towards morning,
Careless and barely breathing,
Suffocated by my own delusions.
My reach was incomplete and primitive
My hands were not hands but thumbs.
My footfall each, they missed
My feet, my feet felt bare.

They fell upon a ground that reached up
and everywhere around me.
It grabbed up at my ankles
Tossed rocks at wobbly knees.

Through my suffering but not overcome
A vision of joy being threaded through sorrow
A Purpose in the pain

I caught a song near morning
It sang to my thoughts like whispers
Through the chorus had come a Hallelujah
The Morning Star was here.