It was dark and cold — like a winter’s night after snowfall.
The waters washed onto the rocky shore, over black, rounded stones.
A rushing waterfall stood silent as the grave, making not a sound — not even a ripple.
Two hands, forever reaching toward each other, held together the very world.
I began walking along the rocky shore, eyes closed, for I knew the path — listening to the silence.
Oh, so silent.
Yearning began to sing its tune for warmth — to be cradled by the light.
Light.
It’s been too long since I’ve known such beauty, and yet…
An ice wall, as dark and thick as the abyss itself, kept it back.
My lungs burned as I breathed in the painfully cold air. My hand was numb from touching that icy wall.
Nothing could get through — just how I wanted it to be. Wanted.
Until I met You.
A fire burns. Light has opened its eyes. The waters are no longer quiet.
They sing a tune of longing, and a deep rumble protrudes from the waters of the lake.
It is calling me.
And I will answer.
It has consumed me, you see — this light, this warmth, this conflagration.
You.
Like a siren enchanting a sailor at sea, I too have been enraptured — captivated by what was lost.
The icy wall has begun to melt.
No longer will it be dark and cold.
Soon, I shall bathe in the inferno that rages behind that icy wall.