Behind, in front, above, there’s no way out,
Contempt and mockery unleash my fears:
Fingers of mist and menace point and jeer
The fog surrounds and masks my blinding tears.
Once more the shaft of fear, of icy dread,
Once more the fog of guilt and stark remorse,
Once more paralysis of mind and soul
Save for the active conscience, potent force.
I struggle forward but to no avail,
The tentacles of fog reach out to bruise;
My lungs are drowning in the poisonous mist:
Once more the battle I’ll concede and lose…
But there’s a voice of warmth, control and balm
That urges me to venture through the hell;
Its quiet tone fills me with hope and calm
Gives me the strength to fight the fog’s cruel knell.
It will not leave me battling on alone,
It will not leave me stranded on the shore:
I must have faith and hope, my trust in you
Will see me through the fog and dark once more.
I hear the sea, the gulls’ wild plaintive call,
I hear the waves come crashing on the beach,
I taste and feel the salt upon my lips
Yet still the kindly ocean’s out of reach.
Your voice is gentle, urging on my steps
I hear you through the gulls’ loud, piercing cries;
But yours, the voice eternal, reigns supreme:
Measured and mellow, comforting and wise.
The sand is cool and gritty through my toes,
Its dampness tells me that the waves are near;
Your voice impels me forward in the darkness
And mitigates my nightmare and my fear.
And finally! the water now engulfs me,
Horizons beckon in the lightening skies;
The fog is clearing, stars blink down benignly
And joy once more finds voice to sing and rise.