There I sat.
Back erect, verbalizing the sounds.
Wondering if the ecstasy would return.
…so long ago and far away…
Slowly slipping into the familiar pattern.
Falling into the rhythm, of each syllable.
The recognizable cadence of an old friend.
Working my way up.
Grounding, releasing, willing.
Loving, speaking, visualizing.
Ethereal realms abound.
Effortless and translucent, the colors return.
Red to orange, orange to yellow.
Green to blue, blue to purple.
White.
Alive and grateful. I am.
Rerouting the wiring.
My hands and feet hum with electricity.
Smiling at the bee buzzing happily in my throat.
Now, I am home.
S. Conde