Division of the Heart

The heart is home to many landscapes-but yours is exceptionally beautiful. Dotted with valleys and rivers, there are endless paths through thick forests where I never cease to become entranced. Sunshine floods through the thickets, and there are hidden treasures tethered to your heartstrings buried beneath the leaves. It remains that I have never smelled flowers with a lovelier perfume than the ones you harvest.

But throughout my journey I came upon a new division of your heart that lay shrouded within the farthest corner of its reaches. After many days and nights of travel navigating disarming twists and turns, the brilliant colors of the world past faded into whites and greys and muted blues.

It was there that I came upon a graveyard. A cemetery where memories of dancing, song, and wonder lay buried, defenseless to the undertaker those call Misgiving. Endless tombstones lay strewn across the coarse ground of rubble and ash that would intermittently be carried silently away by the wind.

I felt my own heart grow heavy at this oasis of sorrow where Reality disguised itself as the benevolent Priest who eulogized the remains of that which you once weren’t afraid to love. So great was my sadness, it was then that I abandoned the most fundamental rule of my work as a surveyor. I took out a few young blossoms I had plucked from one of your happier partitions and placed them amongst your ruins. Upon completing the action, I took my leave of this division of your heart you sought so hard to cast into oblivion.

Perhaps you felt something stir within you then. Perhaps you felt nothing at all. But one of your landscapes has changed. Even if I am banished from all other hearts because of my deed, I have the solace of knowing that a part of me, if only my action alone, will live in yours. I hope there is one day you realize that even within the deepest and most melancholy corner of your heart, there lies a spot of color defying its surroundings.