The lines of the landscape are soft and rounded.
They are the dewdrop dripping gently off a crystal encrusted ruby leaf.
They are the undulating hills of green and cresting white waves.
The lines are sometimes harsh and hard, jagged rock jutting out of earth, dead sticks snapping crisp underfoot.
The lines draw us in.
They ask us to participate in the acknowledgment that all of this, all of us, all of everything is deep, raw, and beautiful.
The lines beckon us inward, to the landscape of our hearts.
Can we find beauty there?
If found, might that rounded, hard, soft, unyielding mishmash of beauty be something powerful?
Could it change things?
Could it change you?
Could it change your friend?
Could the beautiful, breathtaking landscape of your heart be the key to all?