Softer

Today the heart is softer, but there is no carefree, airy lightness to it. It will not float on through and above clouds and parallel to the flight of birds. It is not carefree, and will not dance with the sunlight upon the surface of the lake. Today, the heart is softer--but not lighter. Like a new pillow, it has been given a new Egyptian cotton threaded cover and plumped up with extra Goose feather fillings. It has just been put through a run in the local laundromat dryer, and one can feel its warmth and softness.

Softer, but not lighter. But not heavy either. It is heavy enough to not feel cheap in the palm of one's hand, and light enough to comfortably store in one's pocket. Today, the heart is softer. Wrinkles of love and care have set in today, and broken in the once stiff, new fabric.

Today, I have been blessed with a grain of wisdom: to know how important it is to allow a heart to be affected, wrinkled, and softened--but not stained. Let love permeate and give value to my heart--and not make it lighter and leave it without purpose or intent. The lightness of it all is only felt through the added strength because of new found value and meaning; our legs take fuller, stronger strides and we lift our chins to breathe in the crisper air.