Tonight, in the darkness, sometime before dawn, while the moon and stars grew pale under the ghostly light of the approaching sunrise, wandering across a vast field, whether of wheat or of poppies, somewhere there nearby, I met my death. Whether she was seated or had fallen to her knees, she gazed at me in total silence, her eyes worn and  so sorrowful, as if longing for something deeply, yet unable to express it in words. It felt as though we stared at each other for an eternity. At some point, I wondered if she needed help, and a profound sympathy for her plight engulfed me. But then, I contemplated that she, too, had unexpectedly come across me in this very field under the dawn sky, and she might perceive that I, too, was anticipating something from her. I realised that I had nothing to say to her, and noiselessly, I continued on my path toward where the dawn is born. Easter is approaching, and it is time to prepare for resurrection.