I sit here waiting
for a feeling of life
in my heart

my broken heart
my lonely heart
my lifeless heart

My heart which broke
as easy as glass
my heart whose loneliness
had corrupt my living
my heart that beats
as softly as a woodpecker

My dead heart…

I try to heal the wounds:
stitch them
bandage them
lose them
but they keep bleeding
same blood
same pain
more anguish

I try to remember them:
where they came from?
how they got there?
but I cannot
for all I cam remember
is the pain
in which they were brought

And as I sit here waiting
for a feeling of life
in my heart
He comes…

Here He is:
my friend
my savior
“Time,” he say
“will heal the wounds.”

As the time passes
I learn about him:
his life
his story
his spirit

I feel the wounds
inside me healing
slowly, softly
but healing
for I have found
love
at an unexpected time

And as I sit here waiting
for a feeling of life
in my heart
he’s gone

“Time is not healing your wounds
and neither am I.
I have no patience
for you.”
he says
and leaves

Now I’m stuck here
my wounds
fresh with
pain and
loss

And as I sit here waiting
for a feeling of life
in my heart

I feel something
something I created
without time and
without him
it is small
it is slight

It is Life