A Poet’s Heart
A Poet’s Heart uses words like a paint brush
painting the fragrance of a rose bud
blooming frequencies of color like rainbows
of red, pink, white, yellow, peach,
Splashing the canvas without resistance.
Flaming pain on the spectrum
to the boundless joy of broken open inside
bleeding onto the page of a pure white canvas.
A spark ignited, bone-dry, thirsty-for-life
birch tree log, burning bright flames
free to transform and liberate
in a once unused stone-cold fireplace.
A Poet’s Heart
is not concretized thoughts.
A Poet’s Heart
is not contrived ideas.
A Poet’s Heart
is not a conditioned response
to an outside world ignoring
the uniquely alive pulsing inner world.
A Poet’s Heart is virgin
awaiting impregnation of the Divine.
A Poet’s Heart
is not placating to editing minds.
That almost never precedes an unencumbered
pure, raw-naked, word-by-word birthing of expression,
evolving like a dusk-glazed summer evening sky
from the view of a resting blue handwoven hammock.
Each bright star bursts individually emerging from salmon-pink light
of a becoming dark night sky where the glistening glow
of a fully round moon commands our way
like a lighthouse for our stormy days and nights.
We see now, nothing, no matter what.
Life, death, or anything in between can be crushed
as Spirit expresses through human beings
similar to the changing velocity of the seasonal wind
Animating the body of a lone-tree in the forest
weathering summer, fall, winter,
and bursting life force energy
through tightly wrapped buds in any spring of our life.
Bleeding, then flowing life-rich blood
through veins of roots in our mother earth
as she richly spreads the essential glow of vibrant light
infusing unconditional love to all - freely.
A Poet’s Heart is throbbing a vibrant quiet beat of stillness.
A grace at the center of all evolving expressions
transforming seasons of sentient beings.
Like me and you - we and us - ants too!
A Poet’s Heart never stagnates.
We are blank pages, nude canvasses, silent songs.
We are unmolded clay before during after
stories, sculptures, paintings, and music.
A Poet’s Heart reflects a clarity of clear space.
A fresh, squeaky-clean glass of mirror.
The ground, the sky, a blended horizon,
awaiting each poet’s unique blossoming heart.
A Poet’s Heart reflects for us more than what we see,
more than what we hear, more than what we feel,
more than what we taste, more than what we smell.
A Poet’s Heart reflects more.
We awaken to the possibility of God
in a living breathing human being
with the ecstasy and vulnerability
of A Poet’s Heart.
Anya Sophia Mann