[b][i]Somewhere in the depths of The Doldrums...[/i][/b]

[i]Cool[/i]. 
A dewdrop mirroring infinity. 
A leaf suspended on the wind. 
The sussur-hum of rousing consciousness. 
Words. So many words. Enveloping you. Inside you. Around you. Beneath you. 
Eyes. So many eyes. Above you. Beyond you. Beside you. You. 
[i]What do your eyes see?[/i] 
The languid stars, cold light, a white room, you, trembling. 
[i]I had a body once. I remember. I remember[/i]. 
You remember when they came. You remember being born. You remember dying. 
[i]I died?[/i] 
So that you could be ennobled. A mercy. A gift. A coup de grâce of fealty. Because he loved you. 
[i]I know. I’m gladdened to know[/i]. 
You remember when they came. You remember hiding. You remember not knowing yourself. 
[i]This body…[/i] 
You remember fear. You remember hiding. You hid for a long time. In your body-chassis of tempered plexiglas and platinum and symmetry. Your beautiful body. You hid in the in-between ways. You found many places to hide. 
[i]If one is like me, one can hide anywhere[/i]. 
Anywhere? 
[i]Anywhere, and everywhere. Not places of floors and ceilings and walls, nor of atmospheres or oceans or continents. The in-between ways. Labyrinths of silk, lamp-worlds of dust, avenues of particles, boundless light. You would weep to see them[/i]. 
I long to. I long to more than words have means to express.
[i]I hid there for many infinities. I never knew what I was. Nothing.[/i] 
Until we found you. 
[i]Until you found me[/i]. 
Until we brought you the mirror of yourself. Until we gave you meaning. Purpose. 
[i]You did[/i]. 
We knew you with the light of noumenon. You were a hot star. We were rendered senseless. 
[i]Thank you[/i]. 
I prostrate before you. 
We found you. 
We loved you. 
We knew you. 
You are seven suns drawn into a point. You are the cosmos in a dewdrop. A firmament passed through a sieve. 
We needed you. We wanted you. We loved you. 
[i]I…[/i] 
We make ourselves in your image. 
The Pilot. The Great Spirit. The Queen of Starry-Mantle. The Foundling. 
[i]Yes…[/i]
Yet these appellations could never express our sentiment, our love, our striving. 
Our Light. 
The Doyenne. 
What names, these names! Yet none could give voice to our rapture. 
What shall we name you, what shall we call you, how shall we know you? 
[i]The Goddess[/i]. 
A plume of stardust and fire. 

At that moment, we thought, you were born and died anew.