Words surrounded her, as did the star, small chips of diamonds flickers of light, les mots tendre, je suis la…
Flowers grew from the seeds, 'famille, maison, tache de chocolat…' attached to a golden thread that she wore close to her heart.
Far from home, far from home…far from home, she knew where she came from, the flowers and flickers reminded her.
Home is in your heart, what do you plant there? With what words do you water your seeds?
Wherever you are… plant the seeds that will give you the joy to bloom, life is too short to grow weeds.
photo: Porcelain painted broohe, that I saw in a window of an antique shop in San Francisco…did she leave her heart there?
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