Everyone is a storyteller

The winter is here, the sky is gray,
the wind is cold and the sun is gone.
The grass is frosted, the flowers are dead,
the bliss is gone and so is the swan.
The menace is present, the swords are drawn,
the knight is brave and the reaper is grim.
The passion is clear, the demise ends bold,
the sublime is blinding yet thee must it all behold.
For the painter holds the tale to be told, in the new day of dawn.

I have outdone myself again and achieved a second transcendence to my benefit. My best poem yet, and an introduction to my piano sonata.
I know that I do not know the meaning of happenings, however today was a productive day with elegant approaches and enthusiastic people. Still. Surprisingly, I kept my feet on the ground and noticed them and their spirit without being in accordance to me. This was in fact very pleasant and blissful and undeniably beautiful, to acknowledge someones smile without the 'me, me, me'.