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A Kaleidoscope Vision

In a land where the sun kissed the horizon twice a day, there lived a seer whose eye was a portal to the unseen world. Her gaze held a living mosaic—a kaleidoscope where time danced in endless twilight. Villagers named her Iris, for within her sight, the mysteries of the cosmos unfurled.

Each morning, as dawn crept over the slumbering earth, Iris’s eye mirrored the awakening world. The green of new leaves and the blue of quiet skies swirled in her vision, while the honeycomb lattice that surrounded her gaze shimmered with the golden light of sunrise.

As day turned to dusk, her eye became an oracle. The pupil, dark as the void, reflected the dreams of those who dared meet her gaze, while the horizon of trees within her iris whispered secrets of the earth. They said the hexagonal patterns were windows to other dimensions, and the soft glow that emanated from her eye held the wisdom of the ages.

One twilight, a traveler sought Iris's vision, yearning for a glimpse of his future. With a look, Iris granted him a vision of worlds beyond, of paths untrodden, and of hope that lay just beyond the dawn. As he thanked her, the last light of day dipped below the edge of the world, and in the eye of the seer, the cycle began anew—reminding all that in the gaze of the eternal, every end is but a new beginning.

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A Kaleidoscope Vision.jpg
Copyright
Bill Tiepelman
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6144x6144 / 14.5MB
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👁 The Eyes Have It
In a land where the sun kissed the horizon twice a day, there lived a seer whose eye was a portal to the unseen world. Her gaze held a living mosaic—a kaleidoscope where time danced in endless twilight. Villagers named her Iris, for within her sight, the mysteries of the cosmos unfurled.<br />
<br />
Each morning, as dawn crept over the slumbering earth, Iris’s eye mirrored the awakening world. The green of new leaves and the blue of quiet skies swirled in her vision, while the honeycomb lattice that surrounded her gaze shimmered with the golden light of sunrise.<br />
<br />
As day turned to dusk, her eye became an oracle. The pupil, dark as the void, reflected the dreams of those who dared meet her gaze, while the horizon of trees within her iris whispered secrets of the earth. They said the hexagonal patterns were windows to other dimensions, and the soft glow that emanated from her eye held the wisdom of the ages.<br />
<br />
One twilight, a traveler sought Iris's vision, yearning for a glimpse of his future. With a look, Iris granted him a vision of worlds beyond, of paths untrodden, and of hope that lay just beyond the dawn. As he thanked her, the last light of day dipped below the edge of the world, and in the eye of the seer, the cycle began anew—reminding all that in the gaze of the eternal, every end is but a new beginning.