Chambers.

Step gently—

My hear is fragile, oh so fragile these days.Its halls are wide with giving,

lined with tapestries of kindness,

stitches made of life, love, heartbreak, kindness, gentleness.Things I am and have always been. 
My atrium hums with loyalty,

each pulse a promise kept,

each echo words I held true to. I kept my word. I always keep my word. 

Turn the corner, past the bruised walls—

cracks and softened places

where forgiveness has pressed its hands

against the hurt and smoothed it over. Not everyone forgives. But I do. I always do. 

This heart holds no grudges. 

This chamber glows—

a room of light left on for strangers,

for those who needed warmth

and never had to ask.

Yet if you have left, know the light is always on for you. 

And here—

here is the deepest part,

the place few have seen,

where wonder still blooms like daffodils and redbuds and the dogwoods of spring,

where love is not transactional,

but a river,

endless,

without asking where it flows.

If you listen closely,

you will hear its song,

the sound of a heart

that beats only to give, beats only with purity. 

Search it to its depths. 

Oh, There is no fault in my heart

Oh never on purpose. 

My heart is a pure as when I was child. 

Yet sadly more wounded and despondent.