Each night I awaken, heart pounding against my chest, in the verdant garden of my spirit, remembering past lives, past moments…
My heart ripped from its very roots! Left bleeding on the lush ground, enriching the dirt with its redness.
He picked hearts like he picked flowers, or weeds, I suppose, violently!
From the breathing ground he eviscerated them, ripping with curses and lies that echoed down the years, then he would frown, wrinkling his smooth brow as he stared vacantly at the annihilation that he liked to call life.
Laughing, shrugging his shoulders
He tucks his shirt back in
He walks away dusting life from his hand
And me? As I lay peacefully, knowingly blooming within the fertile ground of memory, this pregnant soil of life. I shed a tear and smile slowly, feeling a deep seeded sense of gratitude for this very moment in this very Life, for I am a joyful, peaceful, holy woman. My journey continues.