The sun breaks upon the Earth, its royal light, radiating upon Gaia.
We are closed, broken, yet hopeful. Seeking a source of warmth.
There are many, some we do not realize. The simplest beauties.
Humanity may be deemed the inbreeding of chaos, tearing, destroying, violent, manifestations of power and change.
We may be harbingers of it. We may be conduits of it. But in the end we are not chaos. Chaos is separate from cycles.
In the end we are simple creatures. We rely on warmth, not on Chaos who only seeks to change what has already been established.
We are closed.
We grow in the sun, bask in all its glory, and when the day turns to night we sleep under its cold celestial covers.
We are closed.
So I thought.
We can produce our own warmth. Love.
We can escape the dark, unknown grasp and seek the home guard.
And that is why I know we are not chaos.
We have a home. Familiarity balanced by our doings.
Change to our remain
A Ying to a Yang
True balance prevails.
The tree of life bears fruit, as it always will.