Jess P. – Hand on Heart

Jess P.

“Never regret having a good heart”

“Hearts are wild creatures, that’s why our ribs are cages” , Mark Beech

“Let kindness be the language of your heart” , Alexandra Vabiliu

“The world is full of beautiful places, let your heart be one of them” , Jenim Dibie

“The heart that hurts, is a heart that works” , Juliana Hatfield

“Make your heart the more beautiful part of you” , Unknown

Here is the full transcription across all five images, compiled without repetition:

The Rhythm of Flesh and Feeling:

In a quiet cage it beats, A steady drum with tireless feats, Four chambers carved in crimson art, The living engine we call the heart.

With valves that open, close in time, A rhythm strict, almost like rhyme, The atria whisper, ventricles reply, Sending life where cells rely.

Electric sparks , so small, so bright , From nodes that pulse both day and night, An impulse travels swift and true, A wave of charge our cells construe.

Oxygen rides in rivers of red, Through branching paths our vessels spread, Each beat a push, each flow a gift, A constant, quiet, vital shift.

Yet more than muscle, more than flow It holds things we feel but don’t show, A racing pace when hands entwine Or slowing down in calm design.

For when we laugh or when we fear The heartbeat echoes loud and clear, A bridge between flesh and soul Where science and emotion roll.

So in its pulse both facts and art Are intertwined within the heart , A truth both measured and deeply felt, In every beat, our lives are dealt.

The Quiet Drummer:

A small, quiet drummer in the dark, Counting moments with a steady spark. It speaks in rhythms, soft or wild, A restless, hopeful, fragile child.

It leaps at joy, it aches at pain, It breaks, then learns to beat again. No map can trace the path it charts , The bravest journeys start in hearts.

[Continuation , sea poem:]

Along the edge of a restless sea, Where waves confess what hearts can’t be, A thousand stories drift like foam, Of love once lost, now finding home.

The tide pulls out with broken sighs, salt in the wound, tears in disguise, Each shattered heart a fragile shell, With silent tales it cannot tell.

But oceans whisper low and deep, To those who ache, to those who weep, “The pain you feel will ebb away,” No storm can steal the light of day.

For every heart the sea has torn, another finds itself reborn, In gentle tides and patient grace, New hope begins to take its place.

Some hearts are mending, stitched with care, Learning again that love is there, They rise like dawn from darkest night, Softly returning to the light.

And some still heal in quiet seas, Carried by time and tender breeze, Not whole just yet, but on their way, Stronger with each passing day.

So stand and listen to the shore, It knows what hearts are aching for, That loss may come, but so will art , The sea that breaks can mend a heart.

And some still heal in quiet seas, Carried by time and tender breeze, Not whole just yet, but on their way, Stronger with each passing day.

So stand and listen to the shore, It knows what hearts are aching for, That loss may come, but so will art, The sea that breaks can mend a heart.

Along the edge of a restless sea, Where waves confess what hearts can’t be, A thousand stories drift like foam, Of love once lost, now finding home.

The tide pulls out with broken sighs, salt in the wound, tears in disguise, Each shattered heart a fragile shell, With silent tales it cannot tell.

But oceans whisper low and deep, To those who ache, to those who weep, “The pain you feel will ebb away,” No storm can steal the light of day.

For every heart the sea has torn, another finds itself reborn, In gentle tides and patient grace, New hope begins to take its place.

Some hearts are mending, stitched with care, Learning again that love is there, They rise like dawn from darkest night, Softly returning to the light.

And some still heal in quiet seas, Carried by time and tender breeze, Not whole just yet, but on their way, Stronger with each passing day.

So stand and listen to the shore, It knows what hearts are aching for, That loss may come, but so will art , The sea that breaks can mend a heart.

And some still heal in quiet seas, Carried by time and tender breeze, Not whole just yet, but on their way, Stronger with each passing day.

So stand and listen to the shore, It knows what hearts are aching for, That loss may come, but so will art, The sea that breaks can mend a heart.