Rushing Toward Me

I was falling very quickly.  Ground rushed toward my face.
Wished, I, for help.  Yet I called not for God's own grace.
I felt that there was naught in me to warrant such demands.
God would do what God would do.  I'd not mess up His plans.

I thought of all things I had felt, and heard, and known, and seen,
The mountains, birds, plants, animals, rocks, lakes and streams.
Each had brought me comfort.  Such beauty ever does.
One might ask me, "Was it worth it?" I'd look, and say it was.

It was worth my pains, my agonies, my deepest wounds, my scars.
It was worth my wretchedness at gazing helpless at bright stars.
It was worth the sore soul-changing that simply had to be.
It was worth the anguish of years-poison burning out of me.

You, dearest Reader, may wonder just what IT was.
Was what worth it?  Why must I write "Because..."?
Why would I go through what I have and suffer very sore?
Twas a very simple reason- I wished to touch one more.

If one more heart of one more soul of one more child of God
Could benefit from words of one who oft thinks himself odd,
Then even if that heart never feels the words I wrote,
I'd write them.  I'd hurt far more, not scribbling a note.

I would pray and I would hope and I would hope and I would pray
That some small word of mine might take the night and make it day.
That night-turned-day would shed its light on heart that does not feel,
And maybe, just maybe, that one heart could start, at last, to heal.

The ground is rushing toward me.  Now what do I do?
Will this bit of rhyme ever find its way to you?
I feel at last my wanting, from whence my anguish stems.
I cry out to my Father God, "I want to stay, for them!"

An instant of black.  I awake, sun shining through window.
I yet live, I yet breathe.  Yes, tis grace, I know.
God wants me to live.  To live by Him alone.
From dark to light, to day from night... I've learned, and I have grown.

Adam Scott Campbell