Grey clouds billow and roll across the winters sky reveling in their own chaos. The wind wails a song of memory, of a moment once held in the palm of a hand. Through the storm and the darkness there is a stillness. A resolute belief.
The storm subsides. The atmosphere is aglow with the golden light of hope. Shimmering, it enlightens all that it touches. The world is transformed and the beauty of the storm becomes aparent. Through the shadows and the glow of light, all is at one.