Expressions of the human heart traverse a labyrinth.
The smallest thought can hold a thousand seeds.
A sigh, a burst of merriment, a kindness, or a prayer
is balanced on the crux of vows and deeds.
‘Neath petals of a dandelion that cluster round the stem,
inert until its power is released,
a dormant seed lies waiting to be scattered on the wind,
but only when the flower is deceased.
So wishing for a miracle and holding fast to hope
is nothing but a mental exercise.
The miracle occurs before a thought is fully born —
it’s letting go that sends it through the skies.
Loving, laughing, idling engines …
friendship pivots with a vengeance.
Dodging darts from one you’ve trusted,
speed is carefully adjusted.
Mustn’t buy into the game —
stirring doubt, assigning blame.
Words are weapons, cocked and loaded.
Silence cannot be misquoted.
Confidants with whom you’ve tarried
know where all the bones are buried.
Pushing buttons, poking, picking —
let your ego take the licking.
If the fence cannot be mended,
disengage with posts upended.
Damned no matter what you say now,
raise your head and walk away now.
Save your energy, you’ll need it.
listen to your heart and heed it.
In the void that cries for filling,
steps another friend … God willing.
2001 Mary Boren