You are the gold yet transcendent light, seizing the darkness.

You are Saturday’s first light shining into civilian’s joy.

You are the malevolent winter causing whole cities to vanish under mountains of snow.

You are the first few steps on the beach, and the first ones to disappear.

You are the first glass of wine that the King ever drank.

You are the daisies growing behind barbed wire, spreading joy in a place of sorrow.

You are the devastated and deserted city returning greater than ever.

You are the odds of two of the same spider web patterns.

You are a forgotten letter in a bottle, waiting for the arrival of the receiver across distant shore.

You are an obstacle in the way of a horde of antelopes, trampled and tangled beneath their mass.

You are the regal lion, catching its pray majestically.

You are at the very back of the procession with an urgent meeting.

You are the pearl white ballerinas, summoning angels to the dance.

You are the pale morning sky littered with hot air balloons swaying in the breeze.

You are Jesus’ lamb who has strolled away and is now in his shepherds hands.

You are the eye of a newborn meeting the gaze of its mother for the first time.

You are the hatred of a forgotten gargoyle hanging on a haunted mansion.

You are a 1941 poppy celebrating death and victory upon the fields which bloomed of pain.