Poem Holding Its Heart In One Fist

A tribute response to Jane Hirsfield’s poem, “Poem Holding Its Heart In One Fist.”

And sometimes it’s better to counsel with our hearts
alone.

I have found that pink buds are perfect within

and destined to open.
Perhaps it’s the inclusion of personal pronouns
in daily life–
of singular I, me
and plural we, us.
A few more days of warmth and it would bloom
one need only be patient.

Even cherries as luscious as lips bear secrets,
no matter how swift we wish to extract
its nectar
ease out carefully using a chopstick
and the pit should fall through into the bottle.

As soon bathe in eucalyptus mineral bath salt
let go of the past
it’s searing worries and pain augmented
there are few things in this world that are better left
unsaid.

Yet, twilight disappeared over the horizon
the last vestiges of gutsy purple
robbing me of what little courage I had left
I stand with my soul stripped for the perusal of night.

This poem after several years of growing up
and wisdom
shall laugh and ponder upon with unrestrained tears
cherishing every moment.

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Posted for Kerry’s Challenge @ Real Toads 

And on Open Link Night @ dVerse Poets Pub