With every tiny bubble that escaped from her lungs and rose to the surface, a new life gained force. Silence. The Gods and the Goddesses shook their bones and took her in their arms. Grow wild sang the Tree, for he knew the importance of freedom. Dance sang the Poetess Divine, for she knew the heart of the matter. Paint the sky, sang the Wind of the West. And thus, she took a deep breath and danced like a wild-thing to the end of Time.
In appreciation of friends breathing the same starlight.
Photo copyright Jeni McMillan