It is true that your heart is a muscle involved in circulation; but this is not its identity. The heart is a chrysalis, long-suspended within a traveling miracle. Its nature is as a crucible, within which sacred transformations invisibly proceed… a musical cavitation, prescient, pregnant and ever-fertile. And when, at last, its butterfly bursts forth, all words and stories shatter. For the truth of beauty is never made captive; it is, instead, the captor…