The heart’s not a pie, but how
convenient
that it’s sliced into four,
that it can hold
different concentrations of
oxygen
simultaneously. Degrees
untold
of love and thankfulness and
resentment
together and apart, correctly
controlled,
disparate, immiscible, vast oceans.
How fortunate that it can
celebrate
and grieve at the same time.
It can contain
brimming tears, and itself. Yet cascade
joy, radiate peace,
friendship. Entertain
opposable thumbs of thoughts
with innate
ease. It can loathe clouds but
still love the rain,
petrichor, bedewed grass, the
shade of shade.
It is indeed a multi-faceted and multi-functional thing. Which breaks (and sometimes heals) more easily than we realise.
ReplyDeleteI do hope there is ALWAYS room in mine, for love, for laughter and for the scent of rain...
It's really got nifty space management! :) Wishing you always what you're hoping for.
Deleteyou always present things in such a unique way. I love this poem and your comment above about space management. Take good care and indeed the biggest space needs to be for love.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Joanne. Indeed we need to carve out a bigger space share for love. Season's best to you.
DeleteHi Nila - again late ... the pie - what a wonderful poetic description ... and it breathes us on into the now ... take care and all the very best for an easier year ahead. Hilary
ReplyDelete