Like a freshly fallen fruit on the forest floor you are shining, and clean, and new.
Your skin still soft and unblemished as you land in the gentle hands of a thousand blades of grass.
You roll and roll and see such sights among a golden sea of dandelions and wonder at the marvels that surround you. A soft rain hastens you along your way, cold and refreshing like shade on a summer day.
Then the rain slows and you along with it, until you’ve stopped completely.
Days and nights pass like lightning in a storm as you wait and wait and wait and wait for something more to come.
You hear a distant tapping, ticking, rapping but you tell yourself it isn’t there. Refusing to accept the arrival of a stranger whose appearance ensures an exit. And so you’ll wait, “unburdened”.