Its a simple pleasure, slow and addictive. washing over like a warm rain in the middle of winter, its a refreshing change of pace as hats and scarfs are removed to enjoy the new feeling of freedom, steam will rise from the ground as the rain drips from the crisp edges of your cloths and hits the white ice under the feet of many. it will send blues,whites, reds , and greens flying out of the chest into the air as free and majestic as the untouched spirit, mixed with the falling fluid to make a mirror of colors. within the colored reflections are memories of the forgotten and visions of the untold, dreams to be held and songs to by sold. when absolute nirvana is reached time will slow like a dieing ripple on the edges of a small pond keeping the water young and unwrinkled. the smallest taste of this feeling on the tip of the tongue will send you to the pond for another look but none can stay forever not if the experience is meant to give the chill up the spine that cracks the lips apart in a ecstatic manor to show the world joy which it has never seen. this pleasure is unknown to the experienced and created best by the inexperienced. it is seen best in the dark under the blanket of stars that covers all of Earth's creatures.
--- it comes when life is in balance, when life is in need of more when life is... it will come
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