The darkness seeps in until it surrounds me.
Bound up with fetters and chains of pure black.
My candle is burning lower and lower.
The fragile light flickers, and then it is gone.
Nothing left to guide me, yet I stumble on.
The wind howls unseen.
The moon adorns herself in black.
Scattered lights that once decorated the sky are now dressed for a funeral.
Groping in darkness and fearing each step.
I know I could tumble in a ditch or down a cliff.
Yet I stumble on.
Until roots grasp my ankles and vines entwine my legs.
I lay in the darkness not willing to move for fear of the next fall.
Yet there appeared a light from the corner of my eye.
It was you.
Another candle.
Another wanderer.
You found me entangled in my own helpless schemes.
And we were wanderers no longer
Having found the missing piece of our souls.
I realized almost suddenly the graciousness of life’s troubles.
You would have never found me, if I had not fallen.
I would have never fallen had my candle still been burning.
My candle would have remained bright had I kept my hope.
And my hope had only left me because of…
The darkness of the night.
