Sitting in the meadow, first of spring,
Heart raw and bleeding, but healing.
All that had happened, all that had been done,
All she had done, was like the weight on Atlas.
It was warm, the wind gentle, tender.
The sky was blue, and she smiled,
Thinking of something happy from childhood,
A good time shared by her and her mother.
Fighting back to the light, after it all,
Back in the forest that had been her Eden with teeth,
Demons and mermaids and spirits abounding, calling out;
She heard the whispers of the wild, lonely little girl she had been.
In between dreams and the sun, as she walked on dusty light,
The Unicorn came from the Dark Forest, and knew the good
That was reeling and bleeding and calling out,
And The Unicorn came and laid its head in her lap.
And whatever came now, the light would shine, the light would shine.