As the wind is dragging the sea foam across the water surface and rain-laden clouds slide past each other, you think you’ll never make it down there. The island, so close yet so far away, out of reach.

Will you be dreaming about it for the rest of your life? Will you be strong enough to endure the wind and wait for the spring to finally come? Will you trust the soft summer breeze and let it touch you gently, until the past is forgotten?

That very moment, as you long for those grey clouds to dissolve, and for the past to be done, is a holy one.

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