The heart is an internal moon
that wanes and waxes as we sleep;
the heart is an unknown island
where the sea brings gifts, then leaves;
the heart is like an ark, a vessel
transiting the dark, the deep;
the heart is like a fish, a carp
that may be hooked, but seldom grasped:
its valves are gills, in dialogue
with saline tides and oxygen;
the heart's red bud unfurls and blooms
with love's first pulse, and withers last.
*
Heartsong breathes a nomad mantra,
open as the steppes of heaven,
audible in bell and gong,
ashram, sanctuary and dome,
resonating with the wind's grass harp,
wild horses, voice, the Moon…