He turned around,
Crouched to one knee,
And began to work.
His hand quivered above her,
Fingertips glowing and warm.
Her body came together,
And color would soon return.
Still, she layed,
Seemingly lifeless.
Yet he knew she lived,
In a dreamless slumber
Among the waving grasses.
This is her spirit,
Bearing yet another scar.
He needed to wake her.
Then he remembered.
His kind knew not human shame,
Nor ever wished to.
But as her guardian,
He had clothed his figure.
She is so fragile, broken.
He would not cause pain
Or make her insecure.
And so he realized
Her bared skin brought hurt.
As he lifts her in one arm,
A tunic materialized,
Long and sapphire blue.
Cradling her, he smiled.
"What a lovely hue."
Now to wake her.
He gently held her head
And whispered in her ear.
"Now wake, child."
His fingers brushed 'cross her eyes,
Then touched her lips.
He pressed upon her heart.
From his hand came a spark,
And he felt her chest rise.
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