Whispering Winds of Transmogrification

What will be cannot be inspected

Nothing stays the same, in spite of appearances.  But change announces itself like the unseen winds before a rain, swirling and pushing a message forward.  We feel the force and sense the brooding, but we can never know how it will fall, if it falls at all.  Peril or promise, the sense of change is less than a speculation, just a hint.  How we take the hint is what matters.

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