Living with a broken heart.

In all my years, I hate almost to admit it.

My heart is broken, and it's never going to heal.

There's just too much that time cannot erase.

I hurt every single day. And I try, every single to day, to put band aids on it.

In the form of birds and sky, water and grass and trees.

Through the lens.

Every sight and every image goes deep, and fills me up. If only for that day.

That is why I will take every day, for the rest of my life...

And watch the birds.

And listen.

And see.

It's my life-support.

In hard times, people rise to the occasion and battle adversity.

And I did that.

For a lifetime.

And I realized that the battle is a lost cause. That fighting the inevitable only makes us tired and drained, and at the end of the fight, we are dead inside.

So, I listened to a friend who said...

Stop fighting. Let what comes, come. You are fighting God's plan for you, and if you let it happen, He will show you the way.

And he has. I have been pushed in every conceivable way to follow this path.

And I fill my heart up every day I am out there.

Because in God's creation there is love, peace, and joy.

To mend a broken heart.