There is a morning after

I am seeing a flicker of light.
The night was so long. The waiting was terrible.
Bereft of my securities, stripped of even my pride, the long-held convictions and certainties suddenly in question, it was a desert time.
The silence was deafening, the solitude so oppressing.
When will I come to the end of this pilgrimage?
I just held on and allowed myself to toss and turn, to be like a bruised reed at the mercy of the harsh and unpredictable wind.
Somehow I have survived, and graciously at that.
I have found my smile. I am singing again.
Hark! Morning has come.