Tangent

And I sit here on the edge of darkness and light

and I linger and fret

for I know the Tangle is deep and dangerous

and I wonder if I should go in after you

or stay on the fringe and wait.

If I go in, the chances of my finding you

are slim

- the last time I saw you, you were running

pell-mell, away from me -
(for which I am confusedly and unequivocally sorry)

But I am waiting poorly, with anxious heart

for I know the dark is deep

and dangerous.

Oh, why do you linger there?

...and can you perceive the dark

from the light?

Please,

begs my heart,

do not tarry -

or if you do see the light,

stretch out a hand,

that Someone may grasp it

until you can feel the Sun on your face,

and see the Way easy to walk it on your own.

....
This was written for a friend, but on further and better reflection, I see 
myself (oh beam of judgement in my own eye!)
and how often and how well I run 
from the One who is Light, who is waiting...


I run because I don't believe.
I don't believe that He will be there, that He is waiting,
or that He is good - towards me - that He will answer, and
that He still has good and unparalleled plans and purposes for me.


The thief does his job well, whispering lies of mistrust, of unfaithfulness, of my own inadequacy.
Of inferiority and superiority and easier ways out 
of the thick of longing for Life and Reality in which I find myself 
caught in those moments when it falls silent all around...


So I start to run.
I run to distraction and I run to pleasure. 
I run to forgetfulness and I run to self-pity.
Perhaps... just maybe... the time has come to run back to His arms.
With all the strength that can be mustered.