The Rebirth.

by Jen Thompson

She does not party on this night when everyone else will.

Instead, she sits beside his bed, quiet and content.

The moonlight seeps through the venetians,

A twinkle in her eye.

She smiles today,

They say he will wake up.

The lifeless plant seems awoken somehow.

Colour returns to its leaves.

Her gentle caresses and watering, filling it with hope.

She strokes his hair, lingering beside his face.

All emotions within her charred.

He’s not the only one that has changed.

Her reckless passion and judgements,

But a long forgotten dream.

Outside the countdown has begun.

They are all in unison.

Bound together by excitement, and promises of tomorrow.

Their good tidings creep into every pore.

She is not ready for it.

For the dangers of the unknown.

She grips his hand, safe in his presence.

An eruption of cheers brings her thoughts back to light.

This is it,

This is the start, a brand new year.

Tears trickle down her face,

Will her prayers be answered?

Her voice is called.

She’s in a lullaby state.

She glances to the door.

Just shadows and an empty shell.

Her hand moves.

The man, he stirs.

Eyes of strangers meet for the first time,

Each one of them reborn.

Understanding is passed telepathically,

For their time now has come.

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