I asked the moon to give me a heart for love is a peculiar thought of an abstract feeling but a heart cannot be given as it can only be made. I was just a soul with an empty chest wandering around my own little world. Yet, there it was a flower growing alone on the hilltop. Like a shrine that invites an empty soul to be made whole, for the flower wanted to be my heart. There is only one thing I need to do, to take care of you until you’ve grown. Sown in the string’s of my providence.
I asked the flower to be my heart, for love is a peculiar thought of an abstract feeling but a heart cannot be given as it can only be made. To water it with words of wisdom and to give it light as it grows it’s perception until molded into perfection. “Give my petals to love” the flower said. Now I have a heart, now I can love for love is a peculiar thought but now a familiar feeling. I placed the flower in my chest like a soul made whole. A hole now gone but replaced by a love to give.
I have the flower as my heart and now love is a bliss of a familiar feeling but a heart cannot be given as it can only be made. One by one I plucked the petals and started to give. Some took one petal and others took two. But to love is to lose a part of you. To grasp the reality, that the world consumes. Now, my heart is a flower with a single petal left. To give to anyone would mean to be an empty soul once again.
“My child”, I looked up as the moon called my presence. “You never needed a heart to give love for you have always loved in your own special way. You loved everyone but you forgot to love yourself. My dear child, in this world that takes, you are the one who gives. You can’t call that anything other than love. May the last petal signify yourself for you are your heart and love has always been you.”