Drawn Current

A current forces nothing. It only draws, and what it draws goes with it, all the way down.

Here the pull is unmistakable. The deepest tones gather high and give way, cascading in a long descent, cobalt and crimson loosening into cooler blues and pale stone as they fall. Through all of it runs gold, drawn down in fine threads alongside everything else, veining the fall rather than fighting it.

There is a grace in being carried rather than pushed. A current does not break what it takes; it lowers it into the deep, and what goes down in gold is not made poorer for the going.

The cascade holds its unhurried pull, and everything within it, even the gold, consents to the same slow descent.