a poem by Madeleine L'Engle

Who Shoved Me Out Into The Night?

Who shoved me out into the night?
What wind blew out the quavering light?
Is it my breath, undone with fright?
This is the Kingdom of the Beast.
For which will I provide the feast?

Who once was daft, with fear am dafter.
Who went before? Who will come after?
Who in this darkness sends me laughter?
I cannon pray, but I am prayed,
The prey prepared, bedecked, arrayed.

The dark is sound against my ear,
Is loud with clatter of my fear.
I hear soft footsteps padding near.
I, who have fed, will be eaten,
Whose dinner will I sour or sweeten?

This is not hell, nor say I damn.
I know not who nor why I am
But I am walking with a lamb
And all the tears that ever were
Are gently dried on his soft fur,

And tears that never could be shed
Are held within that tender head.
Tears quicken now that once were dead.
O, little lam, how you do weep
For all the strayed and stricken sheep.

Your living fur against my hand
You guide me in this unseen land,
And still I do not understand.
The darkness deepens more and more
Till it is shattered by a roar.

Lamb, stop! Don't leave me here alone
For this wild beast to call his own,
To kill, to shatter, flesh and bone.
Against the dark I whine and cower.
I fear the lion. I dread his hour.

Here is the slap of unsheathed paws.
I feel the tearing of his claws,
Am shaken in his might jaws.
This dark is like a falcon's hood
Where is my flesh and where is my blood?

The lamb has turned to lion, wild,
With nothing tender, gentle, mild,
Yet once again I am a child,
A babe newborn, a fresh creation,
Flooded with joy, swept by elation.

Those powerful jaws have snapped the tether,
Have freed me to the wind and weather.
O Lion, let us run together,
Free, willing now to be untame,
Lion, you are light: joy is in flame.