Rose

There she stood, her heart had been at last, broken open. Cracked, raw, totally shattered. She had always thought a broken heart was means for sorrow, for heartache. What she had learnt, was that once her heart had been broken open, she could see clearly, and the past  had started to shed from the curves of her body, the same way a snake sheds layer upon layer. 

Maybe her heart had always been broken, and maybe all she really needed was an awareness, to be awakened to the constant ache that dwelled WITHIN the playground of her soul.  The constant ache that moved her to look up, to look through the fog. 

Clear eyes, and an open heart that had been full of messy chaos and lessons learnt. She had been cleansed, and she danced as her walls crumbled down all around her. She could have been fearful, she could have been stubborn and she could have chosen to stay small as a bud, too scared to start over, to relearn who she truly was. 

She could have been. But her soul longed to play, to dance, to run amongst the flowers.

And so she rose. 

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//Photo Found on PINTEREST//