The passing of time in its essence defines what is set in stone; the shoreline that divides the breadth of pulsing frenzy from self-preservation; a sculpted passage that unveils only the inevitability of change, the patient endurance of suffering.
In depth of feeling there is danger, the danger of loss, of jealousy, of possession. The surface of the tactful shark looks deceptively smooth. It is amazing, however, how unbarbed our interfacing can be when our immediate reactions are withheld. Behind the face of the dragon lies the warm embrace of wisdom.
Armies are built to fight for causes unknown through daily existence. How cold, how distant our understanding of ourselves. We must struggle through the thick heat of others blood.
Is it to accept everything? Or to reject everything? The shore is broken and built and fallen and resurgent. The sea thinks of nothing, terrifying in its heartless ineluctability. The land is pressed into suffering awareness of the light, shadows bulked across its battlefields. Hold onto this memory of the sunset, even as it sits before your eyes. It is already gone; it has already been resurrected into misunderstanding.