2feb 2021
The spurts of fire from a flare stack become a beacon of strength, and hope.. mesmeric.. compelling the passions within.. the golden bowl of the moon spills over, melting hearts into fluid love.. aching to hold, just once.. this magic.. this beauty.. calling out to us.. There is a strange hush around, held spellbound by this tricolor in the sky.. of allure, purity and serenity.. waiting for the inevitable sunshine, in assurance of change and its possibilities.. the rays of ochre melding dreams into the heart of the sky.. igniting slivers of reflective emotions across the sea..
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