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Monday, November 02, 2015

Criss-Cross Heart

Fold a paper heart,
it leaves behind a crease.

When you flatten
that paper heart
the crease remains,
a lasting reminder
of the painful fold,
of losing love and
passion gone cold.

Now fold that paper heart
a dozen times or more,
then unfold it yet again
and see creases by the score.

That is the way of life,
of love, and painful losses,
each a crease upon the heart,
each a burden of crosses.

We cannot escape these
creases upon our hearts.
If we live, we are destined
to feel our lives torn apart.

Furrows upon a heart
are like wrinkles on a brain,
they are lessons we have learned
and knowledge we have retained.

So even though my heart is now
battered and scarred from many cuts,
I will hand it over again to new love
and tell myself that it is tough,
and can withstand being folded again.

Sunday, November 01, 2015

Shine But No Substance

It was all shine
and no substance
the love I
felt for you

Glittering on the outside
flat gray underneath
it was wind
without trees
to slow it down

In retrospect
I wonder why
we ever loved at all

Perhaps it was
a young man's love
fueled more by
desire than by
depth of feeling

Even so I have no regrets

What we had was an
experience worth having