Disclosed

So fast. It's all happened very quickly and the sea shore profiles are shattered and slightly apprehensive and shaken upon the sudden freshness strokes; but in a way it wonders why it has not always been the same as now: the foam roaring, the horizon renewing itself eternally by its golden ratio, considering multiple permutations and sudden rebirths. The waves clashing unto their unfolding, the bending traces of wet sand showing the way to be, to stay one last (wo)man standing. 

Life has returned this spring. And the weeping willow has forgotten that it ever cried on that bereft, long, forgotten winter.