Now, I don't mean this in the romantic sense. People just need to love other people. It's just something that makes the world so much happier and peaceful. There is no greater healer than love.

Serenity. Mhmmmm this makes me want to drift into dreamland!

Time is of the essence, my dear

You've shown me all the evidence, you've made it so clear

You've shown me raw love, real love without fear

You take my hand

Pull me close so I can't let go

I close my eyes, taking in this precious moment

My heart, just soars

Cause all of you has overwhelmed me

This time is everything

You've shattered all the structure, my love

Taken every weakness, and made it beautiful

Standing in your hands again, is more than I can take

I am now awake

"Saturn’s rings are spinning faster than the stunning light.

My face feels the wind and I no longer tremble in the night.

Hearts are supposed to race, but mine stays in place.

I was not born with a heart of fear."

This is an exerpt from a poem I wrote about a month ago. I called it 'Fearless Heart'. When starting this, I was in a state of mind where everything was coming at me, making no sense. I was not in a place where I was feeling what I was writing. But reading this now, I realize that I was describing what I want and need to know.

 You were not born with a heart of fear.

The mind sees a lost flame, a remembered story, and a painful memory. The lost flame is visible, but resides in the middle of the darkness, and therefore, is unreachable. The remembered story strikes a chord in a heart and the heart feels the music flow, and then sends the sound through the whole body. The painful memory is an unwanted tattoo. Its intent was to bring beauty, but ended up being a hideous scar. Traveling through the thoughts in my mind, I feel all of this. I go back and forth between the beauty and, what I think is, the ugly. Now, as I study further, none of the memories and lost flames are ugly. They created beauty, which takes away the revolting feelings I had toward them. It all was beautiful; is beautiful. Notice, the loved story is in the mix of the lost flame and painful memory. At the base of your memories and thoughts, the good of everything remains. You can look at yourself and realize how you benefited from those experiences.

Beauty can come from pain.