Quintessence (409)

A stream of light crosses the canvas like a blazing dawn. Greens surge toward the deep blues, yellows burst into solar drops, while reds ignite the scene with vibrant intensity. The whole resembles an inverted waterfall, leaping upward, as if gravity itself had bowed before the mystery of creation. Within this abundance of colors, one perceives the awakening of a new energy: something rising, opening, breathing with full lungs. The darkness of the background is no longer a threat, but the fertile ground from which clarity springs. Each colored cell is like a seed, ready to bloom into immensity. The gaze wanders as in a stained glass melting, a cathedral of pigments where matter sings its own praise. The human eye discerns an ascension, a silent elevation, like a hymn addressed to the heavens. Everything here invites belief that even chaos can become prayer, that the unexpected carries the seed of hope. And if, at the heart of our inner turmoil, there always hid the promise of a horizon set aflame with renewal?