Monday, March 24, 2014

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

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


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...