What do you see beneath the surface? What do you see in the drawing…?

Close eyes … feel … find peace … poetry …… love ….. look … dream … disappear …. see … sigh ...... write …

I see a heart, the aging of a bounteous love, fruits of passion over-ripening, never won, never touched, waiting. A window open to any who will see, yet never once seen. Chamber walls, worn with time and abandon. Emptiness in the chamber of a heart, deserted by its own soul.

I see a heart, not dead, in slumber. Fruits of love, not rotted, imperishable. But not the soul in sight. It is his heart, as he drew it. So sad, dejected. My love - he was the deserter of a wealth his downcast eyes denied to his sight.

But by the Divine Plan, he passed me by and he did glance into the window of my own heart. Recognized the bounteous love, over-ripening, untouched fruits of passion, waiting, never seen. The chamber walls, with the toll of life taken and shown, battered, scarred, in sore need of care. The emptiness in the chamber of a heart violently shaken, left to ruin. Its soul out of sight, cowering, and praying to God for the stranger's quick and peaceful departure.

But the stranger did not leave. Outside the window, peering into my heart, seeing me, frightened, fragile, broken as I was, he waited. Yet I did not come. Faithfully he waited, for he loved what he saw and he saw his love in me. Scales of fear shed from my eyes, in time, and I came to see him. Inside his heart, I saw my love in him. Not a stranger, but my very own love. And he took me inside his heart and I let him in mine.

[About the drawing: drawn by my fiancé, whose name I would rather not mention here]