this heart alone

©  Steve King

All rights reserved

this heart alone

so emptied of all things

fit only for wonder

and the press

yes the press

of damned recalcitrant sensations

sensation

born of a moment

as were fires of old

in the cold center

of a great dark space

faint new flicker

rising on the very edge

of each familiar empty place

edge

and will too quick unfold

across the ready arc

as if there just might be

some distant glory born

again for all to see

as if there may

be one who waits

bound to gather it fully

though darkness yet surrounds

this my heart alone

so empty now

of old impertinent things

patient for new wonder


A new post for Imaginary Gardens...
 http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/