I stood alone where shadows climb,
Where granite guards the edge of time.
The wind was sharp, the night was bare—
But still, I knew Thou would be there.
I could not see my hands or feet,
Just trembling limbs in silent beat.
One LED—my only spark—
To chase away the endless dark.
Each breath was frost, my fingers numb,
Yet I refused to yield or run.
A tripod, lens, and faith I gripped,
Till starlight through the valley slipped.
And while I waited, heart bowed low,
The Spirit whispered what I know:
“There are so many things to be endured:
illness, injustice, insensitivity,
poverty, aloneness, unresponsiveness,
being misrepresented and misunderstood,
and, sometimes, even enemies.”
Still I remained, though cold and worn,
Refusing night to leave me torn.
I stayed until the shutter’s breath
Returned a frame that conquered death.
Not for the praise or photograph,
But proof that I had passed the path.
That even here, beneath despair—
With frozen limbs and unanswered prayer—
Thou art there.
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