There is a secret language that reveals itself only to those who walk with their eyes of wonder open: that of hearts that appear where we least expect them. A fallen leaf that unintentionally adopts that silhouette, a puddle that curves perfectly, the capricious drawing of foam in coffee. We could attribute them to chance, but everyday life holds a deeper poetics: these figures are reminders - glimpses of a larger order - that love pulsates silently in the very fabric of existence.

To perceive these signs, the same disposition of presence in stillness is required: to stop rushing and sharpen the senses. When we quiet the mind, the world ceases to be mere functional props and reveals its symbolic dimension. The hearts that emerge then are not simply geometric shapes; they are messages that touch the intuitive chord within us all. They indicate that we are aligned with a current of universal benevolence, a current that lives with us whenever we yield to inner friction.

Seeing an unexpected heart is like receiving a cosmic wink: ‘Remember that you are held’. That wink dissolves, however briefly, the sense of separation. It reminds us that the boundaries between inner and outer are more porous than they appear. And the more we cultivate stillness, the more frequent these appearances become, as if the universe responds to our conscious attention with a mirror full of loving forms.

This is not superstition but expanded perception. The heart that appears in a broken petal or in the shadow cast on the wall is a living symbol: it testifies that love is not a distant abstraction, but the intimate texture of all things. To recognise it is a practice of silent gratitude; to honour it is to allow that loving vibration to pass through us and express itself in our daily gestures. Thus, each heart-shaped sign becomes a visual mantra that whispers: ‘You are at home, right here, in the vast web of being’.