Nestled on the other side of midnight lingers tomorrow. Where the unknown frolics through a meadow of butterflies and wildflowers. In your minds eye it exists as hope and possibility layered upon a canvas yet to be fully realized. Within the Now, you long to shape the thing that will never truly arrive and you find solace somewhere between the crimson and indigo dye.
The day ahead once painted with such certainty now hangs precariously on the edge of illusion. The intended brush stroke results instead in a mottled drip and the conscious expectation of the morrow disappears. Slowly the blot seeps further still, blurring within it the lines of conformity and replacing the structure of reason with the beauty of surprise.
The elegant nature of the Universe has shown its deft hand and once again, humbled; you surrender to the Divine intelligence and lay naked before it, awaiting reflection.