Rise

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

How strange that even in the vast moments of in between, those we'd call nothing more than mundane, fractions of syllables coming from you, among human beings there's no parallel of anything the same. A phenomenon long occurring, like gravity or friction, falling and flying, of two states we could always interchange, halves of a piece, with no each having its own, but mere mention and suddenly they're whole.

You've always been at least partly made of stars, of helium and hydrogen and other elements that float, a plasma unlike anything nature could fathom or compose. This is why you have to rise, for He made your human soul, not to settle in these lower planes, but to know again His Sky and find again your Home.