Before the world had weight,
before the lungs knew air,
I drifted—
a spark in the hush between stars.
No name.
No skin.
Just a longing to become.
Then—
a pulse,
a rhythm pulled me down
through warm rivers of light and shadow,
into the hush of forming flesh.
I folded myself into the curve of a spine,
curled into ribs like a whispered secret,
threaded spirit through bone,
through blood,
through breath.
Eyes sealed, heart beating—
I entered the temple not yet awake.
Was it pain, or was it wonder
when I first opened my chest
to the sky?
What mystery it is,
to fall from the eternal
into the finite—
to become
someone.
Thank-you for reading.
Remember there are many paths back to God.
Follow your own path,
Brenda Marie
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