My heart, here she sits within the stillness, within the darkness, within the eye of the hurricane...softly, tenderly.
My heart, here she rests in a tender space. A space near the river of tears, the brook that babbles its sadness to the forest along the way, trees whispering and nodding in acknowledgement, giving her hope.
There is light in the darkness of the heart...a tiny spark that flickers tentatively, afraid of being fanned into being too much, too hot, too wild, too uncontrolled, too unrefined but aching for the taste of the wind through her flames and her hair and across her skin...aching to burn through the grit and the sand.
My heart, she dreams. She dreams of scorpion goddesses and secret family recipes and of the ghosts of pharaohs and the unexpected presence of those she silently adores.
My heart, she wants. She wants to feel rough beards nestled into the nape of her neck and strong arms around her, and his deep voice in her ear expressing a mirrored ache that can no longer be ignored.
My heart, she has wandered and travelled and searched and discovered. She has broken and withered and fallen apart and burned completely only to dig deeper to find strength, compassion, understanding and folly.
Fate and Destiny have been woven into the fabric of my heart's fibers so that even in the midst of the darkness and the embers and the dreams and the wants and the aching she has known that this is the path that she was meant to follow. There are too many coincidences, too many common threads, too many parallel lives for it to be any other way than this.
And my heart, she has risen from the darkness and floated to the stars to commune with the All That Is to remember and to share in the knowingness. She has danced from the ashes into being, ready to transform again if need be and fulfill all of her own greatness that she sometimes forgot existed.