The amethyst on my pendant is placed precisely in the middle of my chest: a soft place within; the edge of a window ruffled curtains the wisp of lace my family in full sun I remember.
I told I observed I touched I discerned I hoped I felt I appreciated I was free aware eternal I am light— I am multi-dimensional I am the spark.
I lived an imperfect life. I died a natural death. I am pulled to the future from the past.
***
A baby living in the now born of female biology enters the world through darkness of immortality interprets herself very differently from where I am.
It is unknown if she is aware. It is unknown if her soul is intact.
Her irises dart. She hears a picture an archive a recorded voice missing the sweetness of her essence missing whispered prayers missing new-born love missing the tenderness the holding missing.
***
How do I tell her? My voice lessens to fiction, synthetics; here I stand waving directionless I cannot point to unknown loss.
Riven by what is incompatible every particular sense of me a thin remembrance: an exhaled taste an evaporated scent stirs, huffs, flys away.
Kelly Huntson 