she carried an ancient lidded jar made of alabaster.
it fit so perfectly in both her small palms cupped together,
the base of the jar melded through her delicate skin
to merge with the tiny bones of her hands.
there were no markings on the smooth lustrous surface.
though pale, the jar was glowing, colors ever changing,
illuminated by the spiral seedpods inside.
while she carried the vessel, she chanted and sang,
“i dwell between elements with song.
i am the spark, more than the fire.
i am the air a fire would need.
from these seeds a world will spring
shimmering across the dark layers of the deep.”