love is as fragile as the butterfly’s wings…
we strive to survive as do all. when love seems to cloud everything up; we are there for others even if we wish we were someplace where the hurt would not sit upon our shoulders and whisper…am i a heavy burden or not. does not love, even when you push it aside to meet the needs of others; then does it not rush back when the day is done.
ha ha ha…it seems to shout, you will not sleep tonight.
your eyes are heavy with tears and agony, yet, you can only smile from the joy that the young lives under your care bring to you. so wonderful they are and a miracle. in your hands they rest, under your gaze they play…in coming years they may do the same for you. love is sometimes found in the most unlikely of places, on a page of a book, in an email, while listening to a beautiful verse of music, sometimes in the rain. i think love is within all of us, we sometimes bury it within our breasts to protect it. then we sometimes forget where we placed the key to it.
you are the essence of love at its highest moment. you have lost nothing, even the key that you misplaced is waiting within your heart to unlock that hidden place and allow your passions to again flow freely.