After the rain, which now clots the ground, she jumps out of her shell: gazes into the depth of her soul and grows roots that run haywire, till she connects again.
She finds a watery burble, and marvels at the passing images of her life (including the lost times) and how she tried to live in the thin veneer between dark and light.
She yearns for the wings of youth, soft and tender, and full of dreams that lacked fear.
As the rainbow in the horizon curls outward, she dashes with the full strength of her bones, naked of ambition and desire and dreams of the future.
Feeling a little faint, she looks to her sides, and sees it: a sprout of a new wing.
Faith mounts within her loins as her wings unfurl.
And suddenly, she rises.
O, how she rises with a grace so swift towards the single-eyed star high in the azure.