I ran out the door today. Ran from the noise. My feet grew weary, but still I ran. I ran from the pain. I did not fear the darkness for it provided a blanket of comfort. Its silence sung me to sleep as I lay peacefully amongst the fallen leaves, under the naked boughs of watchful trees. When the sun peeked out over the distant horizon, I ran some more. I ran for my future. My bare feet were dirty and calloused, but I hardly noticed. I listened to nature's waltz late in the morning, sitting on the edge of a stream and immersing my legs in the refreshing flow of water. The sun smiled down on me all the while, warding off any clouds that dared to ruin our afternoon outing. Safety was in movement, though, so I ran even further. I ran for myself. The sun parted with me that evening and reluctantly handed his duties over to the rising moon. We walked hand in hand through the twilight, humming along to the cricket's song. I stopped just long enough to sleep. Again the sun journeyed on with me, a faithful friend until the end. We laughed when I slipped and fell into a small pond, and we cried when I tripped, skinning my knees on a bed of vagrant rocks. The moon, thinner now in its stature, returned that night to read me a bedtime story. When I awoke, he was already gone. But I could see neither it nor the sun-only a dark canopy. The rain fell hard and fast and I tried to run more, but my body angrily protested. It could not go on any longer, deprived for too long of the nutrients it needed. It curled up beside a timeless oak and refused to move. I cried out for the sun. I cried out for the moon. But all I saw was darkness. A harsh wind haunted my sleep that night. It whispered into my ear all the hopeless things I had run from. My body writhed in response, a worm mingling in the leaves and the dirt. Ghosts from the past hovered overhead, mocking me in a chorus of derisive cackles. With them came a biting cold that consumed everything. All life seemed, in an instant, to flicker out and die. In the morning, the sun returned and tried to nudge me awake. It worked in vain to push through my eyelids. When the moon, growing full again, tried, it too failed. Both the sun and the moon watched over me still-day in and day out-even as the leaves wove a colorful quilt on top of my still body. Unnatural lights crept into the woods, creeping along the ground and up the trees. The forest dwellers scattered, vanishing into fallen logs, ripe with mold, or deep hollows. Voices called out, my name hanging on the tip of all their tongues. Hands lifted me up from my quiet sanctuary and lowered me into darkness, to a place where neither the sun nor moon could reach. They looked far and wide for me, but to no avail. Yet, as the world mourned, the heavens began to rejoice. I was lifted up again, not by human hands, but embraced by a more powerful force. It took me up with it and we passed by the sun. I waved to it. We passed the moon, and I smiled and thanked it. We continued to fly, up higher and higher. Finally it let me go-allowed me to stand for the first time on my own. I began to run again. I ran and ran and ran. I ran to my Father and flew into his arms. We laughed and we cried together. I fell asleep in his arms and he watched over me through the night and through all eternity. He is my day. He is my night. He is my sun. He is my moon. There is no need to run anymore. There is no reason to run when you're already home.