Little pieces of my heart are scattered all across this globe. If you look in the right places, you can find them. They are hidden, and most people would not take notice, but if you look hard enough, and with your whole self, you can feel where they remain.
A little piece was left in the hyssops, somewhere along Vermont Rt 22A.
Another in a restaurant in Middlebury.
The shores of Lake Champlain.
In a piece of bread at the farmer's market.
The strains of song from Grace Potter.
A chalk quote on a brick wall.
The wind over the Green Mountains.
The more they scatter, the more complete I feel. Like any muscle, the little tears yield strength over time. I feel more whole, more right, more content as I see the places that pull at my heart.
Labels: heart, Vermont