The clouds have cleared and I’ve found myself steering down a desolate road into a distant sunrise on the horizon, a dimmed and distant memory of sight and sound now found and made flesh beseeching my minds eye, yet just out of reach; still I try.
Trails of dust lie before me on the beaten path leading to my rebirth, left behind by the many who have passed these crossroads before me. Familiar terrain so frighteningly new, a frontier to explore that never grows old.
With the rising of the sun, each memory is replaced by another, and yet more as the dam collapses, flooding my mind to the point of drowning in a sea of forgotten joys.
The memory returns of a mirror that burns within a brilliant ring of flames, capturing in its reflection the world as a better place. Gaining entry to its world took a key that was given and misplaced . . . a key that is sure to find me once again.