| Some hearts are caring, other are cold some hearts retiring, some daring and bold; some worth admiring, while others are not.. some good at sharing, and some barely beating, wounded in need of healing as is her own, entrusted to you so long ago still capable of truth if not much else. At times warped and twisted, crusty with bloody pasts overwhelmed in the present.. what is it, dare she ask? But now she must.. is it worth anything, really, this heart of glass? Is it actually stone incapable of happiness? So from one heart to another, what is the truth really? Must this heart be cast in cement, so heavily aside? The heart is the temple wherein all truth resides, but the truth seems so elusive; unable to be pinned down long enough to foster a heart warm and beating, to stop confusions bleeding, is the truth really that ugly, or is she? Are truth and confusion one and the same flooding these crevices with pain? Oh to take it all in a heartbeat away.. but how? Please can you help her with these questions now for she is weighted down in guilt once again within things she may wish to be happy about. Can you paint a prettier picture with your words than the place she is right now?, a less doubtful / SANCTUARY / she has to get out…so From one heart to another, please tell her the truth; mold it in wisdom well-founded. And if, in fact, it is the truth, write it down so it won't be lost so easily as is she and so that it also might come to be set in stone as has been this despair. And oh that the truth will stand long, and turn around to become a living breathing embodiment of words other than those that have surrounded this rocky ground. © Sarah Gallant 2003 |
| ~ From One Heart To Another ~ |