‘Tis Not My Heart

My heart broke open and spilled out into a busy alleyway.

It was not crimson, strangely, as I supposed but dingy white

And here and there a dirty grey.  Helpless, I watched as from

A distant plain. Vehicles roared past, mingling with the

Mucky clay, a fine heart once, now gone astray.

I had not thought there was so much traffic here, this narrow

Passage seemed safe enough to stop and take account of travels

Yet to come, and journeys past. Expecting not to feel so numb

I paused along the way and here I am without a heart to guide

Me back to paths on higher ground.

Also, I found that with no heart it’s hard to get around, for something

Central to the human mind is linked to heart, and one without the

Other flounders, like fish out of water, barely able to survive and that

Not long or with much comfort here. Among the din of travelers

Passing by the murky heart lies hidden now in deep ravines

Made by the tires of delivery trucks and taxi’s bound for somewhere

Important.

My heart broke open and spilled out into a busy alleyway

I care not for its color now but I need it back if I would find my way.

A stranger comes on foot, he pauses and looks down, he reaches

Bends, scrutinizes foul remains half buried in the trenchéd muck.

As if a treasure found, he picks it up and holds it to his breast

He breathes, yes, I’m sure it was that I saw, and clear as day.

I swear that fragile thing all broken, filth, and mauled

Turned into something beautiful I recognized not at all.

And then, my God, he looked at me and if I’d had a heart at all

It would have stopped then and there. He laid his hand upon the empty spot

And then I felt it beat again inside my breast! How, I know not now

Or ever may I know, it matters not except I think he kept a part of me.

Oh now, I know ‘tis not my heart that beats—It is his own.

©

Linda settles

www.RedeemingOurTreasures.com