Boards creak underneath the pressure of weight they have grown unaccustomed to for long has it been since flesh touched their splintered surface.  What brings her to her feet?  What pulls her from rest?

While warm rays still pierced the cracks she sat and now as darkness falls like a veil she is stirred.  The small window seems her destination and yet her eyes seem to look farther than the point before them.

Long gone is the circling beam of artificial light that dispelled such darkness before replaced by a straight white line of pure hot light radiating from her eyes.  Her eyes they burn with color changing as though boring through an unseen prism.  They seem to have a language for we absorb the sound yet understanding seems not to be the purpose of simple wood.  We bear her mass in protest yet sway just enough to adjust.

Today she doesn’t seem to notice.  We are no longer her support but merely a path and yet our burden is lifted for the light seems to be lifting her to a place beyond the surface where we lie.  We have felt her so seldom and complained often with the burden and now something stranger than that pain cracks our core.

She is standing but not alone……

The presence of power within her bows our frame bending back to a time when we lived fully rooted and straight.  A time when we too lived.  A painful yet necessary memory. 

A mist of sleep arises through our lines and as we seem to fall into the fog of sleep remembering a lifetime……..while she moves above board.

The scene is too sacred for the inanimate.  The purpose too destined.  She hears no longer the noise of this house nor sees it’s light.  She is asleep but her heart is awakened…..

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