The Chasm

by Becky Parker

At breakneck speed, I raced to chaos
scattering my dreams and plans;
my ears numb to sounds of reason and pleas to pray
Choices, like balloons losing air,
began to fly away.
My feet stumbled on the shards of my scrambled decisions
… propelled forward, unable to stop.
Down I fell
 into a deep chasm,
my hands outstretched, and cries erupted from cracked lips
to anyone to aid my descent.
The floor was unforgiving, with nails and glass.
My watch cracked, unable to provide a sense of time.
Waiting on the bottom, battered, unable to move,
Murmurs, then a symphony of  wings fill the air above me.
The Creator filled the chasm with His fragrant perfume.
He reached down and lifted me out,
bandaged my wounds, then held me close, 
and sang words of comfort:
“Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed, For I am  thy God, and will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand.”

Hymn Acknowledgement: “How Firm a Foundation
Words: John Rippon’s Selection of Hymns 1787
Music: Joseph Funk’s Genuine Church Music, 1832

Becky Parker is a writer in Tennessee. She has been published in Spirit Fire Review, Agape Review, Appalachia Bare, the Potato Soup Journal, the Rye Whiskey Review, Yellow Mama, Sequoyah Cherokee River Journal and upcoming in North Dakota Quarterly. 

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