What engine pounds
within this cage
this heart of blood
beats still and
still beats
this heart of blood
a heart of stone
this heart of flesh
a heart of bone
there is no seam
to mark the edge
between the living
between the dead
no way to tell
when pressing heaven
or pounding hell
no way to draw the darkness out
no way to blind with sole brightness
or soul brightness
no gray
no black
no white
but a strange unfathomable mix
that cries –
"COME TRY AND MAKE ME RIGHT!"
this heart a thing of wonder
broken, yet –
my life’s forge
full still with smoke and fire
pitted deep with thick desire
creating every day
something new
a brilliant work
a few sparse words
perhaps to pray
a small psalm to God
what’s this thing
this lump of flesh so odd?
my spark,
my small ark
that carries stone tablets
and the law
the ever speaking yoke
that echoes deep within –
"you are too precious
to be left in sin"
my little stuttering treasure
my ruby held, adored
my metronomic measure
the housing of my Lord
Beautiful poem Pete. One for all men, perfectly penned. j
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thanks man
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