She is the light

Sometimes the night grows ever-darker
And even the morning sun cannot push back the blackness.
Out of the corner of my eye
I thought I once glimpsed the Dark Miller
The millstones caught me and slowly
Slowly pulled me in. I did not cry out
Nor fought. Parts of me were ground down.
I see the Dark Mill still, sometimes.
I turn my back and scorn the Miller
He waits. He has all of time
That flows into the Mill's black maw.
Then. I see my friends old and new
We start to laugh and the laughter grows ever louder
The Miller roars but is too distant to be heard
I am reunited with One who reflects the flickering light
And that light grows. The sun breaks through and I am content.
A part of me is home again, a part I know not how to define.
Should I try? No-I'll just be unquestioning. Content.

This is lovely, as you know.

very nice Ed

Beautiful Ed, beautiful

Lovely!! thanks for sharing