Temperance

You’ll find me where the stream murmurs secrets to the meadow, holding dawn-lit mist and dusk-warmed clay in balance. My job isn’t to fix what’s broken, just to show that nothing was ever truly split. Watch the water—see how it laughs at gravity, how honey meets bitter herbs in its path. Serene? Of course. Still? Never. Fluidity’s my doctrine, my rebellion, my home.