After

The air unburdened itself, and there, clear as memory, as if copied from a picture of some wider, less populated sky, blink stars. Actual stars form Ursa Major and whisper secrets. Though the wind lightly blows, all is still. Branches sway not, and there is no whistle, only the crunching of leaves beneath feet. There is no brightness but the spiral of yellow in the black night. Breath is crisp and clear and invigorating, the ground cold, inviting. The ground is cold and invites you to stay, “Stay! I offer all of this and more. Nor will I forsake you: you will remain with me until He, and you will walk again. Stay! My depths will heal and soothe you, I exist for you to walk upon – why, you were once dust! Why, you were once without air!”