Like a flower in the meadow a heart was grown,
As a seed in the shallow soil it found it's home,
Strangled by thorns, roots stretching as far as they they knew how.
Eager for love it was taken by an open hand,
Pulled from the earth in which it could hardly stand,
A heart carried away by a world it wished it had known better.
Soon the flower dropped to the earth, left for years,
All the while it discovered the source of it's fears,
As it lay on the dirt away from the hands of the Potter.
There the heart would stay, gasping & alone,
Around it was placed every stone,
A wall to be safe, a casket of the heart.
In the nightfall of the coffin the soul would lay,
Neither grown by sun nor nourished by rain,
Suffocated & safe from the hands of another.
A heart left barely beating from such a fall,
That behind the chest it was rarely noticed at all,
But still it found the words, "I will wait for you."
Then was glimpse of the first day,
All that was left was to tear each stone away,
So the heart could be given to love once again.
