The Ending

Every new valley I walk through ends the same way. Somewhere deep in, when the fear grips my throat and hope's a short wick, after a lot of struggling and bruising and stumbling around, I bump against some shape in the dark. I fumble about a little more, running my hands across it. I realize it's beautiful, perhaps more beautiful than anything I've ever seen. I realize I'm suddenly further on in the path than I thought. And the thing I'm feeling in the dark is the answer to all of the aching questions I'd asked a few miles back where the black was thickest and my wounds deepest. Back when I thought I'd die in there and there weren't any answers. And then it dawns on me that it's not an idea or a shape, it's really Him, breathing softly, waiting for me at the end of my darkness.