Is nothing but Fear,
painting a tunnel onto a rock that looks so real,
so dark and endlessly deep,
that you dig in your heels hard and desperate and
when that doesn’t work, you
thrash in your spirit thinking you’d rather face bodily death,
even death, than go into that terror, that Black Hole just ahead.
Open my eyes to see You between me and It.
Your servant angels bearing me up on their pinions,
gently staying my runaway train on
the track where it rises up, higher and nearer
To the Light of Your everlasting presence.