Cold was the light of the stars

As the bitter winds whipped through the open fields

I was a lone tree on an empty moor

Exposed to the wickedness of the dark


I said that I knew the way back

I said that I knew better

My proud heart had poisoned my well of trust

And now I drank its bitter gall


Fear stalked me as I walked

Its foul breath on the back of my neck

Its tendrils reached out to grab me

To squeeze and shake me like a rag doll


My hands shook as I typed the number

I did not know if it was the cold or the terror

It rang once and then twice

Each ring feeling like an eternity



I choked back the lump in my throat

And the pride in my heart

And I asked for help


“Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me.” Psalm 30:2