Grass Is Always Greener

I’ve come to doubt, the deepest love, once sewn with spiritual thread, into the fabric of our emotional center, can be willed away, even if wanted or desired.Rather it goes underground when no longer embraced, to be felt, another day, when all else becomes still.For dreams and hopes to exist, of holding hands, and walking together, when old and bent, there has to something in place, to find and prevent human nature, prompting us to always seek a new face. Otherwise what chance do we have, when there are bumps in the road, to see the physical beauty of youth, now grown to the beauty of maturity hidden within. So is the grass always greener on the other side? Only when we choose to put blinders on our hearts, denying to embrace and renew again, the deepest love buried somewhere within. It’s power and certainty, unused, denied and forgotten, no longer touchable, without healing and help, only because the grass beneath our feet, solid footing for so long, no longer held our needed attention.