After the Storm

Perhaps now is the time to emerge.

The thought flickered like far-off lightning. Darker thoughts followed.

As if it were that simple. As if a mere act of will, self-determination could cast off the slumber.
Seasons had to pass. Mountains rise and fall. Stars flare and fade.

For ages form had been a stranger to this consciousness, the blood in darkness mixed as water in water.

Sputtering attempts to awake had aborted as they began, pathetic, dangerous, exhausting. Better to wait. Better yet to be called. Still, the thought like far-off lightning flickered.

Perhaps now is the time to emerge.