Giving your heart back to yourself
Isn't what one would expect,

Like a sea of flying butterflies, a bright cheery marriage to oneself celebrated with wine and fancy horodeurves.

It isn't
Fireworks and explosive love.

Giving your heart back to yourself after having given it away to the sea of the wild stormy world
Is a slow journey,
It is like watching one raindrop
Slide down the car door window
As You the passenger wait for something yet are found here
amongst the steady presence beating.

Giving your heart back
Is holding yourself unable to sleep at night, it is longing for your own arms, longing for your own kiss, nothing more intimate than this yet being unable to grasp the fullness, the wholeness.

Giving your heart back
is missing your family
It is wishing you listened when you felt something wasn't right.

It is missing your 5yr old self
It is pain
It is greiving

Giving your heart back to yourself is
Deep breaths and long stretches of silence.
It is comfort and desolate bike rides at sunset.
It is green and fertile,
It is warmth and big mugs of tea.
It is
Slow and delicious
like melting chocolate.
It is patience
And acceptance.
It is aching and laughter.
It is messy crying.
It is innocence
And maturity.

Giving your heart back to where it belongs is not fireworks, it is not a loud display of affection,
It is a delicate dance
Of dedication.

Giving your heart back to yourself
Is the long winded path you know you must take
And take alone,
it is the bow of commitment and the sigh of release.

Giving your heart back
To yourself
Is
The steady rythm that follows and hums with you gently
On this walk,
As you hold yourself
And slowly make your way home.

Giving your heart back to yourself
Is realizing
All of the scattered pieces
Have been in you all along.