Tag spiritual beckoning

there is no place like the final truth

to kiss the muse

we know the heart before we know the self

brittle weeds left untouched

the heart knows

there is a moment of pure remembrance

dwelling in beauty’s shadows

who are we without a noble heart?

contemplative edge of the world

whispers of the loamy heart

rooted in snow light

considering the soul’s purpose

the bliss of forgetting our stories

saving one heart at a time

who knows the sinking of the heart?