Hiding from the Light

By Ingrid Dornbirer

Where is darkness when I need it most?
I must drown out the voice
That now means nothing,
For hope is dead and faith is scarce.

Hide, hide; the light is blinding.
Where it shines I cover my face
With my weary hands,
Stained and scarred.

My heart is bitter and cracked
After years and years of regret
And frustration.
But still, no one is there.

I’ve called with no answer,
Sung with no tune,
And the melody is starting to leave me—
A life emptied of song.

I wander away,
Down a long and dark tunnel
That has no end
And no beginning.

I cannot turn and leave,
But I must continue;
I must keep walking,
Keep running away from a past that is always there.

And yet.

Through the gloom and the fog,
In my twisted mind
There is a whisper,
A song.

I refuse to listen,
I have to hide,
The song is the light
That I must leave behind.

The tunnel is long;
There is no end in sight,
But I must go, I must run
Further into the darkness that welcomes me.

Nowhere to turn,
Just further in, further down,
Further away from the light
That blinds me.

A whisper through the dark,
A voice on the wind that blows
By me, through me,
Calling my spirit to listen.

Listen, it says.
It is not commanding, but gentle—
Like the breeze that carries it
Into my being.

“You left me,” I murmur.
“When I needed you, you left.
You were never there,
Never with me.

“When I fell, you were not to be found.
I couldn’t rise, but somewhere deep
Within me I found the strength
To pick myself up without your help.”

I was there, the voice whispers.
I took your hand and lifted you up
And carried you.
I was there.

“I called and you never answered.
You did not listen, did not care.
I needed you.
And you were not there.”

I was right beside you all along,
You just could not see me.
And I called to you many times.
But you did not want to hear.

Child, sing again the song you once did,
Of hope and joy and courage.
Sing and rejoice in the light
That is within you.

The voice fades away into
The darkness that surrounds me.
The tunnel is never ending
But … can it be? I see a light in the distance.

And around me I hear a sound.
It fills the air
With its joyful tune.
It calls me to join it.

The sound is a melody I once knew.
I cannot give in to the light;
I swore never to return,
To leave it forever for the darkness I love.

And yet.

I begin to sing.

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Ingrid Dornbirer is a fifteen-year-old homeschooler who has always dreamed of owning dragons and learning to fly. Neither of those two things have worked out so far, but since she discovered books, stories have become her new obsession (although she hasn’t quite given up on the dragons). She soon began creating her own stories and hasn’t stopped.

Description: Jesus freak, chocoholic, book adorer, animal lover, actress, artist, dancer, singer, and WRITER.