Well, I have no idea,
what’s going on!
Maybe I wasn’t supposed
to understand……
But for some reason,
I just can’t believe this to be true!
They want chaos & corruption!
To confuse us & for us to give up!!
If my husband was still alive, he would
tell you that’s not her way.
She always wants to understand.
She’s a very curious lady🪶🎨
Autumn Fall peacefully this year “Calm”🍁
And so do I
The Ancient Heart
Before the first kingdom
lifted its walls,
before the gods
were given names,
a heart
beat in the dark.
It knew the fall
before the ruin,
the last cry
before the silence.
It watched the towers
lean into the dust,
the bronze gates rust,
the names of kings
fade from stone.
It had watched the living
bury their dead,
felt the terrible silence
left by a hand
that would never reach
for another.
And still,
it had known laughter.
The sudden, helpless kind
that escapes a room
where sorrow has lived too long.
The warmth of a small hand
folding into its own.
Rain woke the earth.
A flower opened
in the broken stones.
The heart kept these, too.
The grief.
The sudden gold
of being alive.
Both burning
in the same dark chamber,
neither able
to extinguish the other.
Centuries passed.
The heart outlived
the fires,
the flags,
the prayers whispered
over unmarked graves.
And still,
there was the astonishment
of finding beauty
where nothing should have grown.
It had learnt
that grief did not leave
simply because joy arrived.
They had lived together
in that ancient chamber
where one cradled the other,
neither willing
to surrender its place.
And perhaps
this was how the heart endured—
not by forgetting
what the world had taken,
nor by closing itself
against what might be lost,
but by making room.
For the beloved
and the departed.
For the wound
and the hand that heals.
For the tears that come
without warning,
and the laughter
that follows them home.
Until, somewhere,
the ancient heart
was no longer alone.
It beats in the mother
who kissed a sleeping child.
In the old man
who still set two cups
upon the table.
In the stranger
who lit a lamp for someone
and stayed.
It beats in those
who had buried whole worlds
and risen the next morning
to begin anew.
Perhaps the heart
had never belonged
to one being.
Perhaps it had always been
the heart of us—
carrying what we cannot keep,
loving what we cannot hold,
making room for sorrow
without turning joy away.
And after all the kingdoms,
all the ashes,
all the names
the earth has forgotten,
the ancient heart
beats on.