Heart Folds
by Odin Roark

Beginning so small,
this mound of tissue,
time's perpetual resuscitation,
life's bellows for stirring passion,
protection's engine for survival.

So simple its form,
this muscle of pulsation,
innocent of harm's will,
liquid breathing of body's dependence,
wanting only to maintain tomorrow's awakening.

Cellular sentries stand guard,
immunity's breach kept at bay,
poisons held in check,
health and longevity made secure.

So flickers this flame of being,
resisting emotional winds
that might extinguish the spark,
imperviously designed for decades to come,
until the kiss.

Fold one.

Intrusion of hunger's need,
begging emancipation of unknowing heart
as anguish of unrealized pleasure
hints
trying so hard
to withhold untested consent.

Rhythms explode,
prying open the chambers of protective mind,
exposing the unknown magical connection,
the inner-eye bliss of intellect and hunger
distinction colliding
with disruption
causing dysfunction
innate wisdom resisting,
bending back on itself.

Fold two.

More kisses,
pausing ventricles to pause,
breath taken away,
glimpses of forever suspended.

Until…

Folds become pleated,
become a chaos of wings and shadows.

Later…

Wrinkles constrict appetite's meadow of bliss,
tributaries of spirit become dry beds of love’s fossil remains.

For the fortunate…

Reason and dreams will forever remain love's monitors,
life's ongoing casting about for questions without answers?

How precious the newborn heart
of so many folds to come.

How precarious its long,
ever so long journey.