A calm and foreboding undertow, building to its urgency rather beautifully as like the golden bloom of a setting sun. All the promise of doom is threaded yet with a most polite and peaceable reassuring, that even the end can be met well. Though not all things will reveal instantly their intentions true, the surface hesitates you, and the depths unclear; you must anyway cross this river.
Obeying the press of primal loom, take gladly the trails nigh the crescendos curve and ride with joy the sorrowful rhythms of reminisce. The haunting hymns of gaiety gone by and a loved ones laughter past. Turn your look with an optimism to the rainbow arc flung further than it can reach intact. But that moment in the middle, how it shines. Bold and spectacular. Nothing more glorious, nothing held back. Reach for yours the same. Spend yourself.