Before the battle-horns are blown

There comes a time, after many days and nights of exhausting preparations, when one stands as an army of self, overlooking the dark silhouettes emerging on the battlefields of tomorrow, trying to catch the last breath of peace and serenity just before the battle-horns are blown. This is the time of truth, the point of no return for once the arms are unleashed the rules of today no longer apply. This is the time of the mind-shattering uncertainty and bittersweet melancholy. These are the minutes to ba savored for they mark the end and the beginning. And then the warrior stripes of one's essence make their presence known. One can and must plan every battle with utmost attention but it is also true even the most carefully laid out plans change once they hit the battlefield. Good plan is a flexible plan. It is a path with one beginning and many ends. Once the path walked, it will lead to unexpected outlets.

Here we are then, catching the last minutes of quiet before those horrid horns make their presence known. Rejoice!