On Broken Hearts and Love that Does Start

Our broken hearts…beat loudly. They pound away at the diamond hard surface of love with soft golden hammers. Looking for what? – to perhaps take a chip out of it, or find more gold with which to make more hammers to replace those that have become blunt. The irony is that love we seek, we wield in our very own hands and the truth is that love cannot be broken through. I have three loud clocks in this room, each set for a different longitude on earth…one ticks for the future somewhere west, the other tocks for the past toward the east…together they obscure the one rhythm I wish to hear most…that which counts the here and now. You see, the love we treasure is not buried in past or waiting in the future. Find the restless hearts such as yours; love like another, and you will love no other. These lost moments are the underpinnings of a forever that is behind us; pause tenderly in this moment and you may indeed find that love stands due before you. The paradox is, that we all share in the labors of love and strife – too busy to find the stillness in their balance.