Running in the open road between the unknown and the unsaid; beyond the shadows and sublime triangle.
Feeling the waters in the sky like hot steam coming off a radiator; to the pressures of the volcanic seven summits.
Seeking, looking, gazing to the introspections of the world; beyond the hour glass, each time ticking by.
Like old father time and its antiquity to the baby new year; new hopes and dreams.
One look above beyond bright lights, moonlight thoughts; the darkness follows, but swallowed by the hollow willow tree.