What is this? gleaming into the Forest of my eyes---sunlight. Hope.

a door has opened somewhere and a breeze tickles my hair. i have been starving of air and the fire had gone out long ago. cold. stale. now the gentle wind encircles my ashes and awakens the grey death with her pale kisses. soft and light. here for a moment, then gone. but she was here.

she came. she knew about me, the pile of ashes, of dust, lying just underneath the window.

dead. a non-thing without a voice.

and she came and breathed on me.

now, i take my first breath...as the particles of my dust float through the wispy air to form what will be my flesh
my sweat
my blood
my eyes
my heart.

God, make us gentle waves of silence, splashing up against the doors of Hope.