In the quiet wilderness
With only birds for company,
Stumbling across the sand
As my breath grew short
And then it was
Snatched away by the
Wings of death; falling
And then lying there,
Nothing more than scenery.
A low wind hovering
Across my skeleton, filling
Rotted lungs with life,
A whisper of love,
The voice of the Father
As flesh is remade
And the heart restarted;
Breath of life given
Back, and now redeemed.
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