Monday, April 02, 2007

The Heart Knows (a poem)

When, my love,
does the heart know?
When it freezes drops of water
into ladybug-sized diamonds on diminutive branches?

When does the heart know?
When it laughs into the 'morrow,
when it laughs into darkness,
when it smiles on another burst of light?

The heart knows when to run,
and as the web of us was woven
you vanished in mid-spin,
weaving a life of alone.

When does the heart know?
When it cowers at the thought
of the chance to fly,
fearful it could never soar with grace?

No comments: