Flowers from Stone

It's not the destroyed woman, who chooses to devote,  but the healed salvation of her heart, sure she could damage most herself,  but chose to love, to honour and please.  Not because she was weak on her knees, but because she could stand firm,  solid,  and still stay soft hearted,  when everything was set against her. And the grounds below were rough.  She grew flowers from stone,  and gold from dirt.  Not because it didn't hurt, but because that pressure,  that stain and that hold, taught her warmth while others were cold.