I watch Spirit River, day after day,
while ice forms; now found at the edges,
then to expand towards center.
As days and nights reach single digits,
the river will appear as one solid mass,
creating the illusion of strength;
we feel fear as we move closer.
Like the heart after hurt, loss, anger,
or long held resentment, the frozen
solid shield protects the truth found hidden
deep, where life continues to flow,
waiting for the crack that forms
when the pressure insists, or when spring
thaw allows the life beneath into the light of day.
“Everyone we meet has wounds upon their heart.
Mimi Novic, Guidebook To Your Heart
Everyone is waiting for someone to scatter the seeds of love amongst their tears and to be patient enough to wait for their beautiful fragrance of dreams to awaken once more.”
“Time heals all wounds, I’m sure it’s true, but not until after the wounds have been felt.”
Lisa Grunwald, New Year’s Eve
“Heart breaking is heart in making,
Abhijit Naskar, Aşk Mafia: Armor of The World
Wounds bleeding are wonders in making.”