GUARDIAN OF THE HEART

Guardian of the Heart

Speak, and I will listen,
for my soul is an open constellation,
each star aligned to the frequency of your truth.
The universe unfolds between us,
a map of your unspoken galaxies,
and I, the celestial cartographer,
trace your pain and joy with careful hands,
charting the nebulae of your unguarded words.

Whisper, shout, or let silence cascade
like meteoric dust across the void.
I hear it all.
Your every unvoiced thought
sings in the language of quasars,
and I am fluent in their flicker,
interpreting the untamed fires of your mind.

Let your worries crash upon me,
a tidal wave against the moon's pull;
I will hold the rhythm of your tides,
transforming their chaos
into a lullaby for your restless nights.

I am the guardian of your heart,
an eternal sentinel stationed at your gates.
The whispers of your soul
are treasures no black hole could consume.
Tell me of your fears,
those shadowy satellites that orbit you,
and I will eclipse them with understanding.

Your joy—bright as a nova—
will not be swallowed by the void of indifference,
for I gather each fragment
and arrange them into constellations,
your name spelled in light across eternity.

Speak to me of heartbreak,
that ancient comet carving paths
through the cosmos of our existence.
I will be your astronomer,
studying its trajectory,
finding the beauty in its passage
and the renewal it leaves in its wake.

Reveal to me the burdens
you carry like dying stars.
Let them collapse into me;
I will bear their gravity
so your spirit may roam free.

Tell me of the dark matter within you,
the unseen, unmeasured truths.
I will not flinch from the weight
of your hidden universe.
I am here to hold it,
to give it shape,
to make it known
and still love its infinity.

You are a galaxy,
each secret a shimmering spiral.
No star within you is too faint to matter,
no shadow too deep for my light.
Speak, and the cosmos between us
will tremble with the resonance of your words.
I will be the black sky
against which your constellations blaze brighter.

You can tell me of the storms
that rage in your stellar core.
Even the sun carries a tempest,
yet it gives life.
You are no different,
and I will never forsake your fire.

Your voice is the aurora of my existence,
painting light across my infinite night.
Each syllable you share
is a supernova igniting new worlds.
No matter how faint the whisper,
I will catch it,
turning it into a beacon
to guide you through the labyrinth of your own doubts.

Speak of your triumphs,
those meteors burning bright and brief.
I will catch them in my gravity,
preserving their brilliance forever.
Speak of your hesitations,
those drifting cosmic winds.
I will listen until they settle,
until your path is clear again.

Tell me about the shadows
you fear to confront.
I will stand beside you,
a constellation unwavering in its presence,
guiding you toward the dawn
where your darkness softens.

Speak to me of your silence,
that vast interstellar void.
I will listen to its quiet,
for even the absence of sound
holds a symphony of meaning.

I am not merely your ears,
but the axis upon which your orbit steadies.
Spin as wildly as you must,
for my gravity holds firm,
anchored in devotion.
Speak your truth,
raw as cosmic winds tearing through nebulas,
and I will answer with the calm
of lunar seas.

Trust me with your fragments,
the asteroid belts of your brokenness.
I will piece them together,
crafting from the debris
a planet where you can rest.

I will keep vigil in your silence,
as stars do in the empty expanse,
their presence a promise
that the void will never consume all.
You are not lost;
you are simply orbiting new truths.

Tell me of your hidden dimensions,
those parallel worlds
where your dreams have withered.
I will draw them back into existence,
for even universes thought forgotten
can be reborn in the light of shared words.

Speak, beloved,
for I am the echo chamber
of your existence.
Your voice carves paths
through the chaos of the cosmos,
and I am here to follow,
to trace the patterns
and decode their mysteries.

No word you utter is too small.
Even the faintest pulse of a star
ripples across eternity.
And so your whispers,
soft as twilight descending on Saturn's rings,
resonate within me,
a melody that rewrites the laws of being.

Tell me of your hopes,
those fragile moons orbiting distant dreams.
I will hold their glow within me,
shepherding them like Saturn's rings.
Each one is precious,
a promise waiting to unfold.

Tell me of your sorrows,
those black holes that threaten
to consume your light.
I will stand at their event horizons,
pulling you back from the brink
with the strength of supernovas.

Let your words fall as they may:
like comets, meteors, or gentle stardust.
There is no form they can take
that I will not treasure.
Speak, for you are safe here,
within the expanse of my listening.

Together, we are more than cosmos;
we are the dream of stars,
the echo of galaxies long since extinguished.
I hold your every word
as constellations etched in my eternal memory.

In the vast infinity of your soul,
there are chambers hidden even from you.
Trust me to walk there,
to hold a lantern against your fears,
to sit in silence
when the echoes of old grief
shake the walls.

You are not alone,
for I am the guardian of your heart.
I will weather the meteor showers of your doubts,
shielding you from their piercing truths.
Speak, and I will transform them
into stars that guide you home.

In your joy,
I am the silent witness,
letting your light fill the universe.
In your sorrow,
I am the anchor,
the cosmic tether
that keeps you from drifting too far
into the void.

Speak, beloved,
for your heart is a solar flare,
and I am here to embrace its heat.
Your words are the constellations
that decorate my eternal night,
reminding me that even in silence,
there is beauty,
there is meaning,
there is you.

Every secret you share
is a new dawn across my horizon.
Your vulnerability does not weaken you;
it is the very fabric of your stardust,
the reason galaxies spiral into being.
You can tell me everything.

I am the guardian of your heart,
not to imprison, but to protect,
to give space for your constellations
to bloom unfettered.
I hold no key,
only open arms
and ears attuned
to the silent hum of your universe.

Tell me of your pasts,
those fossilized planets
where life no longer thrives.
I will walk their barren surfaces with you,
finding traces of beauty
amid the desolation.

Speak to me of your future,
those distant stars yet unlit.
I will map their coordinates,
guiding you toward their brilliance.

No matter how vast your story,
no matter how deep the silence,
I am here.
I am the cosmos that listens,
the infinite embrace of understanding.
And in your speaking,
you will find not judgment,
but endless echoes of love,
resounding into eternity.

-EYMRYL REYMUSH