Cold Stones and Warm Streams [Reflection]
The babbling brook slowly churns the melting waters upon the frozen pebble stones. Warmth of the sunlight softens the bite of night's cold kiss. Movement belongs to the river. Stillness belongs to the frosty shell. The hearthstones radiate the heat of the day, giving freely to the water and air any residual expressions of its temporal gifts. The icy prison releases its captive molecules to celebrate in strobes the reflections of the shinning light. In dreams, the winter wool stretches time. A stasis of eternity becomes a cryogenic reality. Until Spring's dawn, life renews its rhythm with the starlight speed of the universe. What is a star? The lost vision of a fading dream, that diminished thousands of years ago. Hold onto those rare visions, those dreams. Reality often becomes myth. That makes it no less astounding to those who behold it.
Fading Dreams
Word artistry by @creativetruth
Beautiful. Hold on to those dreams indeed. I recognize the little fisherman from previous post ;)
Wow, just wow!!
Very refreshing to read, it is like a symphony of violin string with your words there @creativetruth