The Heart of Us

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Our hearts might
have gone to
the moon and back
 
Danced in the light
and free forming
weaves of space,
 
Tied their strings
around the fiery
light of the stars
 
In hopes of some
gentle guidance back
on savage lands,
 
Where dreams that
so scent the night
give way, cruelly even,
 
To what the morning
brings, and we lose
time, even, for shadows.
 
Yet all the while it’s
going on, this tapestry
that is our home,
 
The butterflies teaching
us about fragility and
change at the very
 
Tip of our noses,
the birds that rest and
land and take formation.
 
The trees, always the
trees, with the rocks and
the slippery slopes of moss,
 
And they are not secrets,
even as roots grow inch
by inch below the ground,
 
Reaching our for each other
To make sure each one
is fed, nourished, whole.
 
They are not secrets. They
are the gem inside the fruit,
waiting and regenerative.
 
Doesn’t it sound like our
hearts, beating inside of us,
wherever we go? – TS
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