Originally posted 10/15/2007.
The lump in my chest
still moves according to the body’s plan,
but it had its own plan once.
What did my heart think about
back when it still could think?
It’s been sleeping for so long —
there were times
when I had a glimpse of something
(breeze in a poplar; a skirt wrapping
around a leg in mid stride; tears trickling
on a man’s hard cheek)
and my mind called up
a poltergeist ache within
but I thought it had settled there because
atrophy had made room for it
and not because I thought
my heart was awake.
I still cannot easily believe
in a Lazarus dawn but
there is something here
I cannot deny
early in the morning
when I turn toward her
breathing beside me;
something directed outward,
something that wants to be heard —
there is a knocking in the tomb.

November 3rd, 2014 at 1:32 pm
They say hope is eternal…
November 3rd, 2014 at 3:09 pm
Perhaps it is…