The Lost

He was lonely. The darkness had come on him quickly. It had wrapped its arms around him and pulled him, ever into the shadows. The thorns stabbed into his heart. Consequences occurred of his foolishness. 'Why' s haunted his head head. 'What if' s played many parts as memory recalled time. As if painting, his mind drew on the past.
As time wove its web on his thoughts, he recalled the joy, the security, the fellowship and the love which he had received from those around him and his master. The voices seemed to call on the wind and danced around him. A merry dance they did, the music recalled sunlit afternoons of laughter and the time of peace. He had grown up there. Known all those around him since he was a child, just out of hi mothers womb. Their faces seemed to scar his memory as he sat there, alone in the darkness.
But now Reality seemed to come as a silent figure and present its case. He had turned his back, saw something better and went for it. Forgotten the voice of his master and followed a new path. Full of adventure! Or so his thoughts had told him. He had heard some voice shouting to come back, but he had ignored their pleads. He knew better. Independence! It boomed in his mind, but now only echoes remained. Reality had presented its case, he was alone due to foolishness. His foolishness.
He looked back but the paths which led him seemed to have faded into the darkness. There was nothing to be done but to cry out for help. Someone might hear him. Someone might come and take him home.
His voice sounded feeble and small in the shadow of the great darkness that bent over him. The whispers seemed to be quickly swallowed up by the haunting wind which wove the trees around him.
Yet in the distance a small light appeared. It seemed to cut through the darkness and give him hope. His voice once again cut the dark air, this time aimed at the light replied with an answering call. It flew through the air without a care for the shadows lurking there. Nothing stood in its way. It found its target and spoke the words, "Come." He knew these words. Often he had heard them. often he listened and obeyed. They wrung true, spoke to his heart and held it in such unknown love. He had to obey. Nothing could stop him. he leapt up and headed for the light. Closer it came. Closer he went. Suddenly it vanished, the earth went down. He was stuck. He was helpless again. Alone. So much alone. So close . . .
He cried. The voice and tears mingled with emotion and spilled out around him. Doubt gripped, as cold iron, fast around him like some snare or trap. He was hurt. All was gone. Death seemed so close. Light suddenly spilled over the pit's side and pulled him out. There were the eyes of his master staring into his. He was safe again. The rollercoaster was finished. He had come home. He had been found. His master took him and led him. The light showed the path he had previously taken. Yet now he was once again where he belonged and was following again.
Round the corner, the light faded into the warm glow of where he belonged. Those he knew gathered round and checked, asked and inquired. The master left him with his friends and went and called those the master knew to celebrate his return.
Amazement swept over him, as a wave. After what he had done, the master went to so much bother to honour him. He knew he had done so much wrong, yet the master was throwing a party. "Surely I should be punished." he thought, "Surely I deserve nothing. Being here is good enough. Yet all are so glad I am back, all is forgiven." The master looked over and smiled at his thoughts and picked him up and held him close.
The master held him in his arms for what seemed to pass as an eternity. Then the master set him down and said, "My little one. Hold close to my words and follow me."
He has since. Though sometimes he forgets or listens to other calls, he has the assurance that the master will come and take him from the darkness into the light, where his home is.


(March 1998)
[ written by Stephen Ogston and are Copyright Protected ]