To love someone is to give them a part of ourselves. When they are not there, that part is missing; we are not whole. So when the scythe cuts through life and

To love someone is to give them a part of ourselves. When they are not there, that part is missing; we are not whole. So when the scythe cuts through life and the essence drains out; then we know pain. Not of the body nor of the mind, but pain of the heart that fills our inner most depths. We do not feel it at first, but as our heart bleeds we drown in the misery and plea for death's sting. Some who have experienced such emotional trauma tell of a desert afterwards: a retreat, a place of half life and a place of healing. We walk and view the reflections of our life and listen to the whispers on the wind. Do not rest too long: there are dangers. Avoid the middle of the desert. Here the light is different: like treacle, it is thick and it flows. Time does not pass -- the air is still and things do not move; just the shadows, first they are here then they are there. These places can swallow you up like quick sand: walk away! Keep walking and walking and walking. When the path is tough, just little steps will do; one after the other. Do not be afraid to take a hand: it will not pull you down but guide you on and carry you through the roughest terrain: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. On and on we go. But slowly we heal, our wounds dry up and seal, our despair evaporates and is carried away on the winds. Life returns. The misery that has seeped out from our hearts dries and slowly crystallises to form gems containing the rainbow of our memories. They line the chambers of the heart: our inner selves; a hall of celebration. Shine the light, and let these jewels colour your every day!