We break so easily,

like brittle autumn leaves

that crunch below the feet

in the deep woods.

As the trees turn from green

to red and yellow,

I crawl into the earth

to protect our hearts

from the storms raging outside.

Dust rises from the ground

as I fall to my knees,

holding the three precious hearts,

so full of light,

in my hands.

 

When night falls

and the moon rises in the eastern sky,

the dust motes shine like stars,

dancing, swirling, praying.

Dissolving as the sun rises later.

Bathing the hearts in golden light.

I will hold, I will protect

I will not let fall,

not let go.

For these beating hearts

Are all mine.

Fragile and precious.

Blessed to be surrounded

by so much love.

 

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