The Heart
the heart
chooses its own ways
it cannot be held,
bound, constrained,
imprisoned, force-
marched, auctioned
into slavery, it cannot
be arced
like a burning arrow
to set fires
where we might wish
it is an instrument
that plays its own music
inventing melodies
which we have not chosen
it is the goad that drives
us into agony or delights
us in laughter, it can
illuminate another person
so we may see in them
the same stars
that blossom into
constellations
within each of us
