Where is the place that I put my sorrow?
It no longer ebbs and flows with the moon or blood, but rises unbidden
In the early morning.
It caught me unaware as I walked out of a dream.
There it was.
A gossamer woven through my connective tissue
Holding, unyielding, unbidden, unseen until
I called upon compassion, counted the flowers of my blessings
The sorrow rose,
To be held.
Bathed in love, the threads loosen, open, dissolve
Into the one heart.
image ©2012 Occupy Your Heart
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