Celestial Intervention

Her emotions fall from the certainty of being untouchable.
They are set a steady drift.
There is a risk she must take. Again.
From the niche of a cloudy, yet protective tree top, her existential body continues its journey. Forming a ribbon of free and vibrant sentimentality. At a halt, these emotions come, once they enter the open concave of a murky lake.

The ribbon of colour is suspended, but does not fade at the contact of the waters provocation.

The lake is ornate with a spectical of crabs. The lines on their bright red shells shine, with a wisdom of itched experiences past.
She flees into the silence of her shell. She feels like them. Like them, she silences all the distractions that have risen above the waters stillness. She is at home with them.

She tries to feel the vibrations of what is below her, above her, around her, within her. All without getting submerged in the haunting, liquid sentiments of her icy past. She has melted them into a large puddle. The puddle has now run dry.

She turns deep inside, deep deep inside her shell. Until she sees it is time to come out again...

With a promise of a renewal in faith (that living in love is worth the pain of dying when it must abandons you), the sun rises to commence a new day. She cries at yesterday, but prays, with her heart humbly exposed, at the hope of a better tomorrow.

Faith perhaps...

From all the bitter attacks of her past, her shell begins to heal slowly, by one simple touch. The touch of Astraea. A goddess; who encompasses all the justice of orderly, and is able to see beyond blind sentiment of the crab-womans overwhelming emotions. Astraea sees the analytical truth of that which is. All, with the purity of a strong woman's heart.

She rises to the surface of the water, and accepts the reach of Astraea's sturdy hand. Through the guidance of the stars, she slowly emerges from her shell.

Again.