A place where flowers stand still in hushed air, the delicate symmetrical imperfection of perfection. You are so close to the ground that you can smell the soil, feel the roots of the grass. The quietness of a soft, loving earth.

This is where I want my spirit to dwell. This is what I wish to be, to feel, to smell of, more than words. A gentleness so profound it leaves you motionless. A silence so deliberate you forget that you ever knew how to speak.

When I think of all that I've done wrong (and so grotesque, my doing) it is hard to believe that I can ever be that innocence, that sweetness I smell in the petals blooming here in the sun.

I could never confess to anyone but Him the nature of my heart.

But when I think of You, I go here, and somehow know (despite my heart forever failing) that this is where we all belong.