Isaiah 41:10

it’s dark outside.
she stumbles, gasping
in pain. feels blood
trickling from her palm.
the trees mock her;
the rustling laughs.
cold eyes glare. they narrow,
no sympathy. she scrubs
her hand on her jeans,
permanently stained.
standing quickly, running
from their joy, their
pleasure. they call out
to her, “join us, join us…”
she sobs, tears betraying her.
roots trip her; branches
scratch her and then slap
high fives. no mercy.
then a new voice sounds.
“Take my hand.”
the wind hisses, sharp
gusts stinging her face.
“don’t listen, don’t listen.”
the new voice is now a
whisper, “I love her,”
and takes her hand.
he gently rubs the tears
from her cheeks. the night
cries. “he lies, he lies!”
“Be Still!” they quiet.
she looks to him, but can’t
see his face. “who are you?”
he doesn’t answer, pulls her
along with him. “please,
i don’t know you!” she cries.
he stops, wraps his arms
around her. “You know who
I Am,” he murmurs. he lifts
her into his arms and all she knows
is peace. he runs with her.
the wildlife gains new
confidence, reaches out to her.
she whimpers; he holds her closer.
light is visible up ahead. the trees
fight again, wind whips around her,
the eyes have taken on new forms.
the creatures snarl at her.
“I Am!” she cries out.
suddenly the world is all
aglow. the light is so intense
that she can’t make out her
savior’s form. the forest
yells in pain and leaves them.
he carries her out into the light
and sets her gently down.
when she reaches for him, he is
no longer there.

a week later, she is chased
back into the woods, immediately
attacked by those that hate her.
“I Am!” she cries again.
he appears at her side, pulling her
into his embrace. “Do not fear, for
I Am with you.”