The vision is before my eyes, although it comes from deep, deep within me. There she stands, my Little Prophet.
She is born and I am there for the birthing. She makes her first noise. I am the only one to hear it - for I have yet to create the others who will occupy her Universe.
She turns and looks at me, taking form as she is lifted up -- out of the mess and confusion that is my brain. She smiles, gleaming, oh, so very brightly! She is alive and I let her be, her breath the pulsation of neurons.