Alive, again.


How long had she not been?

Had it been years?  Where was she going with this?


The open door was a door she was ready

to walk through, but why at this site?

Why abandoned churches?


One step.  Stop.  Two.  Her hand

went to her eyes. It wasn’t happening

if she did not look into the altar.


A toddler, the altar knew what she had done.

She had become alive.  It wasn’t allowed.


That’s what the church said too:

It isn’t your decision.  To become alive is a grace.

She would need saving from her own


illicit resurrection.