tmbt: water returning to the heart
And the joy fell like a feather slowly but surely to and fro, to meet the millions of moments collected before her. To and fro, landing sweetly a top the universe-old pile, stones below, rose petals above.
And the hope fell like the petal of the rose flitting sweetly from the sky to her gathering, catching the sun and holding the shadow, one against and between the other, until settling lightly atop so many changing petals of the now and past, feathers below, and stones even further still.
And disappointment fell like a pebble, quickly tossed directly through the layers, falling, clinking onto the forever gone fears settled and settling at the bottom of this tenderized heart.
And in the landing… in the landing was a shaking, a gentle nudging of the rest, a stirring of each and every last memoy held here by salt and water, air and light. And in the quiet resonance of these landings, the elements rose most beautifully up and up and up until the eyes blinked them back to the sky by way of cheeks and chin and fingers lightly assisting, lovingly tender from your hands.
And in your eyes, this most beautiful thing was simply, softly returning to my heart to start again anew a history of love found everywhere, and most certainly right here. Most certainly.
Photo by Toni Frissell seen at Shorpy.