I have her gift—
though I never knew of it
or knew I was not alone
here on earth, such a predatory
planet where innocence
seems certain sentence 
of death.

And sometimes is.

She came to me
with small gift in a dream,
for my birthday, she told me
and said I should have had it many
years ago. Then she showed
me snow; and she was...
so cold.   

The gift could not
be opened until the day
she called "your decision day"
which meant nothing at all at the time.
But then, when at last I 
visited her grave—
wild wind,

Her broken heart.
God-sent flood in formation.
Shocking revelation plumbed
very depths of me. I could see what
angels had meant for me—
true stability,
support.

And I, like she,
had gone my life without what
was needed to bring forth
full gift that was entrusted to me. 
It must have been moments
but lifetmes passed fast.
Bereft

By what was shown—
yet another circle of
betrayal—altered all that
had come before, all that now takes shape.
I must decide, she said
whether to receive
the gift

Or just walk on,
believe other's lie of love,
take burden not mine to bear.
Now on day of my birth they gather,
sharing love whatever
choice I choose to make
today. 

I accept her gift, 
ask way to opening be
a way marked by forgiveness
and healing streams after so many
desert days, destinies
cut short, dreams deprived
of life.