It is from Aspen to Annapurna your optical phenomena turns ice crystals into illusion. It is breeze which blew while the angelic fleck flew freeing the foresight of your followers. It is as if God made this magnificent masterpiece himself with his crystal rainbow paint brush making every stroke perfect… taking his time. So everyone in the barren tundras all around are amused by rainbow hoops that shine brighter than sun rays beaming off of a chrome Dodge Durango. It is fearing how something can be so beautiful come from bitter arctic wastelands of icy nothings, diamonds in the rough. It is frosty luscious layers of eye catching flushing forces rowing the roots slow in the cold giving me a warm feeling of security and comfort Reminding me of the palm trees where I lay near radiating Quintana. It is a bright diamond against dark cloth desert in the ocean. It is beauty abusing the eyes of the beholder light pillars and sundogs which fall from Asgard. Feeling righteous rays flying over an unlimited source of pointless sadness reality will always exceed and overcome fiction.