Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

The woodland at the back of my house is a place I visit often. Today I noticed a bright pillar of light swaying as if windblown. There were shadows dancing, whispered voices, children playing.

The children in the light wait to be born. My mother and grandmother told me the same tale, but I never expected to see it. I could sit here forever watching, wanting to hold it in my mind. I may not be lucky enough to see it again.

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