Life has served me well. If I stop to count my blessings there are many. But it is the hurts that made me stumble and blows that hit hard that took my breath away.

 It was in those moments that I stopped to feel the pain, pause and take a deep breath. When brick by brick the walls around me crumbled and I lay exposed, that I opened my eyes to the beauty of the devastation around me. When the earth shattered and dust that arose quietly settled and I touch each raw wound to cringe in pain the true beauty of what life is about revealed it self.

So I will be gentle with my wounds. Kind to elements that bruised me. Let this be my prayer. To get softer with each pounding, lighter with each blow. Kinder to each insult and non resistant to  falling stone.

To stand up one day when the onslaught is done not as a crumbled ruin but a work of art that nature worked on. Let every crack, dip and smear tell it's own story of how nature in its fury sped past this way....

She took her place
Chin held high
The other one
On the other side

A full circle
Life had dealt
When to this quiet place
She stepped in stealth.

Lips curled in secret triumph
Eyes from scorn doth avert
In this quiet place
The endless wait....

Saturday evenings  in a quiet hilltop house in Kandy. Watching the sunset as the birds fly home to nest and Bats  out to hunt.

Eager eyes search the deepening sky for that first star. A star to place a wish upon, maybe three or at times a surreptitious four that poured out of a young girls heart.

As years passed  Saturday evenings saw joys and sorrows, stresses and strain that life brought her way.

Evenings that passed in study, or giddy excitement of dressing up for a Saturday night out in town. Meeting her best friend for a quiet chat that would stretch on in high spirits untill Sunday dawns. Evenings sitting out by a poolside, an anxious mother watch as her child learn to swim or attempt a game. Secret evenings tucked away in the folds of memory to be reached out and relived when the music dies.

So it's another Saturday evening. She sits out watching the sunset as the birds fly home to nest and Bats to hunt.

Her  eyes search out the first evening star. A Star to place a wish upon. Everything has changed still nothing has as she closes her eyes to make a wish...maybe three and  yes  even the surreptitious four  pour out of a woman's heart.

This tree did not bear any fruit for years. I thought it had stopped bearing. But loved it for its beauty nevertheless.

 It had the most beautiful vine growing on it which quite covered its branches. A wonderful sight.

Then one day I strippped off the vine. A cruel and heartless gesture it seemed at that moment.

Free of the vine that sucked at its life the tree bore fruit again. More abundant than I had ever seen it before...

A new lease of life....