I am but a prism of light, nurtured into being by the colour of your imagination. I can appear as a multi-faceted diamond in the microcosm of a dewdrop. I emerge as opposites collide, as bruised clouds clatter into clear skies. I'm effervescent from a distance, yet invisible when you stand right beneath me. Some say I'm intrinsic of inspiration. Others may think that I instil melodies within their soul; I'm only a reflection of the person that sees me. And if I do harbour pots of gold at my extremities, then none of them are redeemable. My symbiotic offering is beyond trade. Worth words. My language is complex. Its syntax governed by creativity, its phonetic flair fluid through free expression. I'm ungrammatical, free to arc wherever I please, unable to be defined by punctuation.
All creation stems from light, whether it's the geometry of a leaf or the glistening garnish of sunbeams glimmering on water. It's the same language expressed differently, uttered on a collective breath that undulates within the lungs of Existence. Know my language, and you will find your breath. You will find your true creative voice.