• She stands on the beach.
    Behind her
    the island is dark.
    Old friends call out to her from the trees.
    Old things whisper her name.
    Old desires stir within her.
    She longs to fly away, but she’s waiting; searching.
    The waves crash onto the sand and brush her toes.
    How long must she wait?
    A week?
    A lifetime?
    She doesn’t know.
    Slowly she slips into abandonment.
    “Where were you!?” She cries out.
    “Where were you, Lord!?”
    “Where were you when the needle took hold my arm!?”
    “Where were you when the men whispered my name!?”
    Where were you when the bruises painted my face!?”
    She falls to her knees, in despair and looks up, tears streaking her cheeks.
    “Lord, Lord, where have you been?”
    “My love,” He whispered in her ear and then, with his scarred hand, wiped away her tears.
    He looked deep into her mocha-brown eyes and replied, “I never left.”