isaiah 35

the deep voice of a father
calls through the darkness.

it offers
a steady rock for my heart and
a monte cristo of salvation;
i tremble at his beautiful voice.

it called me through the blackest night,
and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder:
'turn, dear child. turn.'

but, paralysed i remained.
frozen and afraid,
i could not lift my broken body
from the damp dirt.
with nothing to offer,
no strategies or solutions:
at the end of it all.

i simply called out his name.
eyes ashamed with hidden tears,
and heart bound by heaviness,
a desperate whisper escapes my lips:

'abba'

his melodic utterances lifted me to my feet,
and swiveled my life around to the fresher air.
feeble hands found new strength,
and buckling knees steadied
in the voice which draws me home through the darkness.

my sighing heart found a new muse
in the delight of his voice;

new melodies bubbled over into verses -
inexplicable joy
over outrageous mercy.

the tunnel's air is sweeter
with every step i take.
his voice coaxes me on, a hand leading me through,
keeping my feet from tripping, and steadying my every stumble.
my eyes are straining ever forward,
looking for a glimpse of him who called me;
my mind rife with daydreams about the meeting of our eyes.

'lo! a crack of light dawns ahead!
though the rocks of this tunnel are still so cold and rough,
my eyes have perceived what is to come,
and the one who is waiting at its door.

his voice is louder, my joy is exploding, my heart is racing, as my pace quickens to a run -

in an instant,
i will be in the strong arms
of the one who called me out of darkness.