Some days...
My heart seems heavy, burdened by some overbearing phantom of absolutely nothing.
Off-beat and jarring my chest every other second, leaving me breathless.
Some days...
My heart feels as if it were cast against a stone, shattered into many pieces.
And I’m left to gather them like dandelions in a basket upon my hands and knees.
Surely, the chambers of my heart aren’t hollow, echoing spoken prose…
So much like a seashell with centuries of the ocean’s waning and ebbing,
innocently discovered by the little boy that lives not so snug inside of me.
Some days...
My heart is light, softly thumping in rhythm with my spirit, with the universe.
What would I hear if I held my scarred heart to my own ringing ear?
Songs, hymns, ballads, an old blues guitar, a grand symphony…
or the voice of that little boy exclaiming “Look! I found it!”
