Whispers (Excerpt)

I was still five years old when it was the worst
and I lay there in the dark afterward,
still and quiet, wanting to be somewhere else.
And I went to a place I’d never been.
A place clear and cool yet warm and still and in motion too.
And white,
not just white on the surface but white clear through
and it felt good to look at it
and good to be there.
It seemed like a cave,
with high white walls melding into the ceiling of solid white air,
like a mist made of rock, translucent.
I raised my hand to touch it,
knowing it was out of reach,
yet feeling it was near at hand.
I was standing on a rock ledge and I started to cry.
‘cause I was safe, I knew, he couldn’t get me here
but where I was I didn’t know.
I just knew it was a good place,
a safe place to cry.
God was here, everywhere.
This place was made of God,
I could almost see him moving in the mist rock.
I laid down and waited until I stopped crying
and my heart stopped pounding
and I could breathe without sobbing.
Too soon I knew it was time to go.
And then my leg was warm and shaking and a voice called my name
and I smelled the dust of the old church
and felt a hand on my leg and I was back.
I was back and someone told me to go home
and I never saw the old man again.
But his voice would play in the back of my mind for many years to come,
and I would visit the cool, clear, warm white place in my dreams knowing peace was there
and God.