The splendor of a horizon, set far yet so near. The beauty and the freshness of dew in the morning. A symbol of a dream yearned and carried within the bosom of a young and old people. A hope of a beauty adorning the majestic hills and sacred mountains.
The birds reach the horizon effortlessly. Even a man past his prime will still carry a mischievous twinkle in his eyes stroking that well-worn beard. That twinkle is that of a king in his own castle. Many a younger generation fails to see the diamonds and rubies he cherished and shared with many a bevy of beauties once in his time. The horizon takes him to places unknown by many…. A place he only knows with a twinkle of fondness.
