In the Dark
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The sky, the trees, the horizon, remnants of my thought world, were born anew, painted with light. Along the hills, soft green and gold grasses flooded themselves with giant daffodils and fluffy irises, the kind that smell like sarsaparilla, my favorite flowers.    

My personality, the "girl in the cave," was born into existence, this pregnant emptiness, like the flowers, fragile and transient but precious and beautiful, always connected to and destined to return to the roots.

"This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet." ~ Rumi