The Heart Of An Engine

Beneath the hood of living, the heart hums and whirs, Its pistons are pounding like restless prayers. Compassion is the oil that softens the grind, flowing through chambers, forgiving the wear. The crankshaft turns heavy with burdens of sorrow, Yet bearings of mercy keep movement alive. Each spark plug of kindness fires in the dark, igniting the courage we need to survive. Gaskets of trust seal the fractures of pain, so no leak of anger corrodes what we build. Radiators of love cool the tempers within, when fury would boil and engines be stilled. We are machines, flawed, rusting, incomplete, yet compassion repairs us where metal meets heat. And when the gears falter, compassion remains— the hand on the wrench, the balm for the strain.