Serene was the milk, undisturbed as cream layered the surface, held in a cup, untouched and content. It did not want for anything, it could sit all day, curdle and reek.
Calm was the vapour, seamlessly flowing, flying across continents, seething and heavy. It did not want for anything, it could sit all month, condense and drop.
Peaceful was the heart, pumping blood, red and thick, within the confines of its osseous cage. It did not want for anything, it could sit all of a lifetime, thud and stop in the end.
The milk had not met sugar; the droplet, earth; and the heart, love.
None imagined, that something could sear through their being, pervade every atom, and change them utterly. None imagined, that anything could batter them, but not bruise; shatter them and remould them into something new.
Astounded was the milk, sweetened and light, ready to be devoured and reach its completion. It would not sit there, it would nourish and strengthen.
Flummoxed was the vapour, meeting as a sphere and kissing the earth, to grow life and cool heat. It would not sit any longer, it would embrace its beloved and blossom in green.
Shocked was the heart, beating fast, missing a bit, stirred to a frenzy, sanguine fluid coursing, flooding, rejoicing. It would not sit there, it had met its weakness and strength, the one to stop and the only one to kickstart, it thrummed with giddy delight.
All pervasive, possessed, entirely surrendered, to the contentment, the peace, the sheer euphoria,
Supine, welcoming, embracing tight, the love, the soul, in complete eudaimonia.