Wandering though the dark
I find a hand to guide me
Tripping over unseen obstacles
I get back on the path
The underbrush grows thick
And I lose my way
Fashioning a tool
I cut my way through
A small light at the end
Makes me press on
I emerge with scrapes and bruises
And find you were always there
What a journey – first of all through the challenges of darkness, but then to the understanding that the ‘you’ of the poem has always been present and that the poet’s sense of isolation was anything but. Beautiful!