It hits differently...
Sometimes what comes through is hard to measure, impossible to put in words, so fragile it hits differently.
It calls with a warmth worth of a tear, so intense and caring that it’s shy and daring.
It doesn’t care for how or why. It sheds so generously from far and wide.
It hits differently in a world of harshness, softer than a snowflake landing on a cheek, rosy in its feel, rising with a light lifting it bright to a smile that caves to the wonder that shapes all swanky, elegant, and right.
It hits differently… may it carry you through and from this heart a jolt that shares the flame beating in endless reign with no moment to make it tame.
Until the next ❤️ beat ~.~.~
“…so fragile it hits differently.” I often say, “in that different way of knowing”. I have often used that phrase without a real understanding, but it reading your words in proximity to another reading this morning, here is what “dawns on me”: there is something that knows, experiences, that is - other than thought/mind. And because it is not thought/mind we somehow “don’t know” when in fact we do. Wow, a strange perspective, that of course presents paradox! BTW - that phrase “it dawns on me” is SO apropos…the sun coming up…illumination! 🙏 Carlo
Wow, joyful poetry 🙏🏻