Pain and exhaustion are consuming me today, and my head feels as though it is drowning in a blue mist, killing me softly. I see a small blue butterfly, flitting in joyous abandon through the chalk meadow, as though a fragment of the summer sky had broken free and was dancing between the waters. I too, should like to be clothed in heaven and mantled in such azure delight.
Perhaps then, I might in turn see my fractured self break away on wings of lapis, the weight of suffering gradually becoming less and less, a blue ballast taking flight and allowing all to fall apart, as it finally should: my ashes softly scattering themselves amongst the bluebonnets and carrying me home.
Text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt Composite art by R R Wyatt © used with permission.