Broken Heart

She couldn't bear it anymore.

The news, the world, destruction and devastation.

She could feel her heart breaking, shattering in her chest and all the tiny pieces trickled out through her tears into her hands.

The more she cried, the more the glittering pieces filled her hands and overflowed. Until it was not just her hands full of grief, but her pockets too.

Finally she stopped. Hollow and empty.

She didn't know what to do, she couldn't bear to put her heart in the bin or to burn it in the fire so she took all the tiny shards outside to the garden, and began to plant them bit by bit.

Scattering her broken heart within beds of sunflower, nastursium, and calendula. Dug deep into the roots of rosemary, thyme, sage and lavender. Hidden in amongst the dark loam of rose, honeysuckle and jasmine.

But still there was more.

She stepped out of her garden into the lane and began to plant her heart within the hedge grow and all it's grasses and thistles.

In amongst the wildflowers, cornflower, poppy, foxglove and ox-eyedaisy.

Sharing it with clover, yarrow, mugwort, meadowsweet and nettle.

And still she walked.

But she did not feel so broken despite her shattered heart.

So she kept going

Sowing her heart through fields of oats, barley and rye.

Cast among furrows of carrot, parsnip and potato.

Soon she reached the edge of the farmland, her pockets were still full but she felt lighter.

So she kept going.

She sprinkled pieces into the reed beds at the side of the river, where the ducks quacked and moorhens dipped.

She spilt some on the stoney shore as she took off her shoes to wade through.

A stoney grey heron eyeing her from downstream.

She wondered what her broken heart would look like within the water so she gently pulled some out of her pocket and let it fall swirling and twirling down, and then cascade away within the flow.

It was so beautiful she did it again watching her heart dance in the water and then slowly made her way to the shore.

The grass was so soft on this side she kept her shoes off and walked barefoot to the giant sycamore tree. She sat in its roots for a while, just watching the world go by, listening to blackbird, chaffinch and Robin all singing gently in the branches. A ladybird made its way up through the rough bark and a tiny money spider spun out a web and drifted away in the breeze.

She put her shoes on, said goodbye and left a little pile of her heart hidden within the trees roots.

Slowly she made her way into the woods. Trees towered overhead, ferns and bracken lined her path. She Wren chitted and woodpecker knocked. Sorel, wild strawberriesmushrooms, and toadstools growing in the inbetween.

She passed birch, beech, and rowan. The birdsong became louder and louder, the path became darker and darker as slowly the trees became bigger and grander, then before her, ancient pine, alder, yew, ash and oak stood in a circle, opening space between one another as if holding a council.

In the middle of their vast roots, a floor of beautiful leaves where the light beamed down, dancing through the thick branches.

It was spellbinding.

Slowly she walked to the centre, spinning slowly in awe of the majesty of the trees. Their holding and support of one another and the forest around them. And as she turned her pocket ripped on a twig and the last of her heart fell like dust, carpeting the forest floor and leaves.

Seeing her heart like that, intermingled and part of the forest floor, the leaves, the twigs, the light dancing through the canopy was beautiful.

And she fell to the ground crying, this time not with grief but with joy. With love and compassion and understanding.

And she realised that as she had been walking and investing her heart into nature and the land, nature had been giving back and she could feel her own heart renewed and beating strongly where only darkness and emptiness had been only a few hours before.

♡