Torch of love

A weather vane, swiveled on its spindle, catching a cold breath of tomorrow.
It was a wind that carried no sound, only the promise of change. Below, in the
hushed valley, the world lay in wait. Only the winds knew how deep the snow
would be�"a blanket vast enough to quiet the earth, or merely a dusting of the
coming dawn. The vane held its rigid vigil, a silent prophet of the chill that
seeped into the marrow of the air.
It was all quiet, dormant in layers of hope. Yet the wind was still there. Like a torch. It will be, it will come. It was as if it wispered, I lay here, the wind of change, brought on these shores by the aeons. I am no easy. I am a torch, the promise of love, to be carried by those that are awake on these dormant landscapes.

Collaboration with Adagio