05 June 2009

My Vintage Heart

Some days I swear my heart is far older than I am.
Born in another time.
Transplanted, somehow, in the fertile depths of my chest.

It seems a little rusty, a little frayed and fragile.
Yet timeless too.
Able to stand up and stay open to the world.
Resilient, as only human hearts can be.

It is here I hold my secrets.
And here I hold my shames.
My aspirations.

Here is my refuge, and my strength.
And, when I'm not wearing it on my sleeve,
it is my most sacred and personal possession.

I have given it away and had it taken.
I've had it burst and broken,
it has felt hollow at times and at others,
it has seemed it might explode with joy.

It is only twenty-six, this heart.
But feels centuries older,
and it is far wiser than I.

I'm still learning to listen to it.

And in my ordinary day to day dream of a life,
I am learning to trust it more and more.
It is an heirloom.
A treasure somehow both worth protecting
and worth handing over.

Here you are.

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