First, comes the scent---the Angels are present.
Next comes the fall, and I feel a brushing of wings, growing stronger, more intense until my breath seems to fail me.
Then, comes the darkness.
When they are gone, I struggle. The darkness is like a weight, pressing heavily upon me, and I must fight to push it off of me, so that I may surface, and rejoin the world.
The One Who Loves Me touches my face and washes me with water, or is it tears?
I yearn, but cannot know until I am back among the living.
I have suffered a little death.
A little E.
