Here is my Heart

As I sit in my room,

my door closed,

I start writing my thoughts.

I think ...

Here is my heart. It is a worthy heart.

It spins a web of water and earth.

It is nearby, chanting to you

in words too awkward to spell.

Here is my mind. It is a worthy mind.

Wizzes privately,

throngs of anxiety.

Magnetic atoms attracted to life

What is the origin of this life?

How can I be present, in this moment,

grounding myself,

dim lighting and blanket?

Here is my soul. It is a worthy soul.

It calls me, "Oh turn up faithful one,

away from entrapments".

Together, we prepare nourishing dishes

and drink the cure to malice wishes.

Here is my poem. It is a worthy poem.

It ran endlessly on the edge of water and earth,

and teetered around the craters of my ruin

to recite to you,

with its new winged sandals of susceptibility.

Come, sit near me, oh dear one,

place your head here

on my chest, plenty near to hear.

A Johnson

Photo by Minh Pham, Unsplash

Inspired by:

Budha, The Dhammapada

Inspired by:

Joy Harjo, poet