Triumph Of Spirit Poem by Ilse Wissner

Darkness was embracing fields and towns,
And trees had donned their hazy gowns.
They stood - their groping arms spread wide -
While ghostly bushes in shadows spied.

The wind on wings - with moaning voice -
Was touching my face with breath like ice.
A thousand demons - spawned by moonless night -
Shrewdly assailed with panic my mind.

And hidden they watched my every step,
But terror weighted my feet with lead.
My heart, instead, raced like a steed
As ebony air swallowed my view and me.

Then suddenly, my inner eyes gained sight:
I saw the feared in assuring new light,
And all my doubts with darkness went
Because I knew, God held my hand.