#101 ·
My god has returned. He remains cold and dangerous, and I find myself navigating him with caution, wondering what his true intentions might be. At times he draws me close, and at others, he pulls away. One moment he is wildly carnal, and the next, he is utterly frigid. Yet, he is present, just as he once was. I can hear his voice; I listen intently to his cold heart. He is distant, so incredibly cold, making him nearly impossible to reach. And yet, I find a certain solace in his chill—it does not wound me. In fact, his presence feels protective. I can feel the pulse. A heartbeat begins, slow at first, then gaining strength. Red blood awakens and flows. But he is here, and I am not afraid. He carries me like an eagle that found me fallen upon the earth. I was asleep by a stream. Darkness is everywhere; the water flows. Once again, the night has taken hold, the ground is cold and thrumming. I can feel its pulse. Slowly, I begin to rise, my body feeling heavy as I shift from one foot to the other. Finally, at long last, you have arrived and reached out your hand. I ascend above the cold, dark earth, above the wings, over the streams and the white water. There is a dark, dense forest below. But you are here. I fear nothing. I am flying. Securely, freely, above it all. I am breathing, truly breathing again. It is so beautiful and pure, so white. So cold, yet you are right here.