Feeling Lost

I'm lost in the woods. I can't see through the thicket and twigs regularly attack my vision. Stumbling through weeds, I reach toward a pretty flower, but quickly recoil my invitation of friendship to this plant - it is false piece of botany, only a prickle. So I start running. I don't know why, but soon my head is pounding. A pinecone falls from a neighbour tree and rolls onto my messy direction of travel. My feet have become slack from dodging too many obstructions and this tiny pinecone, a fraction of my size is suddenly responsible for my face in the dirt. I begin to cry. The tears slowly clean the dust from my face. I don't know where I'm going. I can't see all the angels that hide between the trees, singing a muted version of hallelujah. I can't see any sunlight from my narrow frame of reference. I can choose to look out my left eye, I can choose to look out my right eye, or I can inspect the world from both. Even so I am still blind to the pith of this navigation. I'm lost in a blurry woodland with too many trees and an overgrowth of stale moss. I am now five minutes older, scratched by beasts and wondering, with desperation, where I should trespass next. 

And He says.

Look up.

Madison xx