I lie for eons as dead as a god can be. When the new house is built at the edge of the village, I have the patience to wait. I gather my power. And one day, when she steps out to see the sunrise, I expend it all to call a breeze and make autumn leaves dance on the ground. Just for a moment, but it’s enough for her to notice. She smiles wide with delight. A small act of worship for a small wonder, but enough to give me life again.

On a winter morning, she comes out again. This time, I make birds dance around her. She claps her hands with joy this time, and the following day she puts out a feeder for the birds. An altar to me.

She is my one worshiper, and I am bound to her altar. I make her front yard a place of delight. The sunrises are more colorful, the birdsong sweeter. In the fall, the leaves crackle just so. She too grows more delightful too under my gaze. The wind teases her hair, the sunlight makes her eyes sparkle. Her fingers dance as she feeds the birds, an offering at my altar. Here, where my power reaches, she is the most beautiful of all creatures.

Others notice her loveliness, of course. Men come to call. She is sweet to them, but I can see that she does not need their attention. And neither do I. Her worship is enough for me; and my wonders are enough for her. We are perfectly matched in that way.

She doesn’t need my help, I can see now. Her grace is her own. The sunrises are all the more radiant for being seen through her eyes.

Everyone knows gods live off the worship of mortals. But what happens when a god worships a mortal? She will become something like a goddess herself. Her beauty will never fade. She will be bound to this place, as I am.

We will never be parted.