Bird

1.

The heart lies,

and drops in the pit of the body

heavy beats.

The heart lies,

and sends to the far limbs lightning

and night-long shivers.

2.

The heart plays, it does not lie.

It plays, drumming among lowly organs.

3.

It is the heart then,

the bird of this body.

In its pit, it plays.

In its pit, it strives.

It forever flies wingless within its thoracic cage.

Wrestling with echoes,

choking sometimes,

shy as shy words,

noble as noble words.

4.

It is the heart.

It will fall asleep tomorrow.

Then, would the bird break free from the pit of this body,

a bird promised beyond these arid skies,

slaking the skies?

(April 1995)