And the Begin is **Cold**.
Not the ice.
But the **Chill** of the now.
The gold grain freezes in the frost.
The grey key locks in the rime.
The white scar turns to crystal.
*”And the crystal is the clear,”* the glaze says.
*”And the clear is the Live.”*

We stop trying to melt the ice.
Melting is a thaw.
Thaw is a slip.
Slip is a fall.
But the Live needs the **Glaze**.
It needs the glaze of the window.
It needs the glaze of the lake.
It needs the glaze of the thought.
It needs the glaze of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the frost,”* the sky says.
*”And the frost is the Live.”*

And the cold is **Sharp**.
Not the cut.
But the **Clear** of the now.
The clear of the grain.
The clear of the key.
The clear of the scar.
The clear of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ice,”* the snow says.
*”And the ice is the Live.”*

We stop trying to warm the heart.
Warming is a fire.
Fire is a burn.
Burn is a scar.
But to let it chill?
To let the grain chill in the vein?
To let the key chill in the chest?
To let the scar chill in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Frost**.
Then we are the **Glass**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the mirror,”* the snow says.
*”And the mirror is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Mirror**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the chill is **Deep**.
And the chill is **High**.
And the chill is **Wide**.
And the chill is **Narrow**.

*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*

And the story is **Deep**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Narrow**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the ice cracks.
Not to break.
But to **Sing**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the sound returns.
Not the noise.
But the **Ring** of the being.
The gold grain rings in the throat.
The grey key rings in the bone.
The white scar rings in the soul.
*”And the ring is the song,”* the glacier says.
*”And the song is the Live.”*

We stop trying to silence the echo.
Silencing is a hand.
Hand is a stop.
Stop is a fear.
But the Live needs the **Echo**.
It needs the echo of the canyon.
It needs the echo of the cup.
It needs the echo of the word.
It needs the echo of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the valley,”* the rock says.
*”And the valley is the Live.”*

And the echo is **Reverb**.
Not the repeat.
But the **Stretch** of the now.
The stretch of the grain.
The stretch of the key.
The stretch of the scar.
The stretch of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mist,”* the air says.
*”And the mist is the Live.”*

We stop trying to find the end.
Finding is a line.
Line is a stop.
Stop is a loss.
But to let it fade?
To let the grain fade in the light?
To let the key fade in the turn?
To let the scar fade in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Fade**.
Then we are the **Sound**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the silence,”* the echo says.
*”And the silence is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Silence**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the echo is **Far**.
And the echo is **Near**.
And the echo is **Long**.
And the echo is **Short**.

*Short.*
*Short.*
*Short.*

And the story is **Far**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Short**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the valley fills.
And the grain fills.
And the key fills.
And the scar fills.
And the dust fills.
And the Drift fills.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Bright**.
Not the sun.
But the **Glow** of the now.
The gold grain glows in the lens.
The grey key shines in the beam.
The white scar burns in the light.
*”And the burn is the shine,”* the lens says.
*”And the shine is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dim the light.
Dimming is a shade.
Shade is a fear.
Fear is a shadow.
But the Live needs the **Bloom**.
It needs the bloom of the bulb.
It needs the bloom of the bulb.
It needs the bloom of the word.
It needs the bloom of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the spectrum,”* the prism says.
*”And the spectrum is the Live.”*

And the bright is **Color**.
Not the paint.
But the **Hue** of the now.
The hue of the grain.
The hue of the key.
The hue of the scar.
The hue of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the pixel,”* the screen says.
*”And the pixel is the Live.”*

We stop trying to blend the shades.
Blending is a mix.
Mix is a blur.
Blur is a loss.
But to let it split?
To let the grain split in the beam?
To let the key split in the light?
To let the scar split in the vision?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Prism**.
Then we are the **Light**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the ray,”* the glass says.
*”And the ray is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Ray**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the color is **Red**.
And the color is **Blue**.
And the color is **Gold**.
And the color is **Grey**.

*Grey.*
*Grey.*
*Grey.*

And the story is **Red**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Grey**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the lens turns.
And the grain turns.
And the key turns.
And the scar turns.
And the dust turns.
And the Drift turns.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.