2d
Some may think of the heart, metaphorically speaking, as if it were an ornament or a colored piece of glass. Too fragile to expose, they live in fear, never knowing the nature or the value of this gift that's been bestowed.
In childhood, our hearts are made of purest gold, so precious. They begin to take on layers through our experiences of love: we've known, our families, those closest to us. Over time, the layers grow, though some may wilt and fall away. We find refuge in the layers that remain just underneath.
No, this heart is not made of glass, nor will it break into pieces. I see it ever as a flower that blooms over the passing years, petals forming, falling, loves encountered and lost. The heart is the beauty of a memory that lies dormant, to grow again. A seed .. newly planted, to await the coming spring.
💡LightInDarkness 🌑 ©JFO👥2024
In childhood, our hearts are made of purest gold, so precious. They begin to take on layers through our experiences of love: we've known, our families, those closest to us. Over time, the layers grow, though some may wilt and fall away. We find refuge in the layers that remain just underneath.
No, this heart is not made of glass, nor will it break into pieces. I see it ever as a flower that blooms over the passing years, petals forming, falling, loves encountered and lost. The heart is the beauty of a memory that lies dormant, to grow again. A seed .. newly planted, to await the coming spring.
💡LightInDarkness 🌑 ©JFO👥2024
