The key to my heart

How to find the key to open my heart, using a theme of rope

So you want to know the key to my heart�"
And you ask as if hearts were simple things,...
as if there were a single lock,...
a single key,
one twist of words that could open wide
the chambers hidden beneath it's ticking clock

Well the key is not a thing you hold in your hand;
it’s more like ...a light.....
soft beams breaking through a clouded sky, Komorebi, gods fingers reaching for the earth,
a touch not felt, but known as whispers in flight......
It is in the glance when no words are spoken....
the silence between our breaths,
the way someone lingers long enough
to see what’s needed but never said, a token....

It’s in moments the quiet ones,
like when the world pauses
and two people realize they are both adrift,.
yet tethered by something invisible,
like gravity, or kindness,
or the way the earth moves
without us ever feeling it shift....

You want to know the key to my heart!...
but it’s not a single thing,
nor something that can be given,..
only found,...
when someone stands still long enough
to listen to the echoes of it, it has always, always been there, like drops upon the ground.....

The key to my heart, well...It’s like a rope, frayed at the ends, harried....
not something neat or polished,
but very worn, softened from years of my holding onto it,
And weathered by the weight it carries...

You see, my heart has bound itself to my memories,
to faces, to fleeting moments,..
like strands woven together,
twisting in and out of time,...
each knot telling a story of survival,
each loop a lesson in letting go, it has no reason to this, no rhyme.....

Some ropes snap, and some unravel,
but mine...?..
mine winds through quiet places,
through words spoken in dark rooms sometimes alone,...
through hands that have touched mine
and often left without saying goodbye.
My rope holds fast to my fragility,
to the spaces where my trust dangles
just above the void, gone....

You want to know the key..
The key to my heart....
but this rope, ... this heart,..
is not undone so easily...
It’s tethered to something deeper,... something rooted in both quiet strength and vulnerability,...
and we learn to hold that which is out of our control... because love is a keeper...

It’s the kind of rope you don’t cut through... Because that would be too brutal, ... too fast a release.
you must untangle it,
slowly,
patiently, piece by imperfect piece,...
until you feel its weight lift
and you come to see, to realize,
That maybe,
... it was never meant to bind,...
it was only meant to hold, only to guide....

And in the unspooling of the rope, there is a grace,
a quiet revelation,..
that with time,...
the heart can learn to trust again,..
to open like a flower kissed...
by morning sun and mist,....
and you find solace in knowing
that these bonds were woven with intention,....
each strand is then a weathered testament to a journey shared without rejection...
a fabric rich with life's hard and blessed stories,....
where every Frayed edge holds a lesson gloried....
and every curve directs the turning of the key,
And when the heart finally opens free from the ropes,
what you finally see is... ME

Author's Note

Please provide any feedback or criticism, I'm be to eriting