With great conviction, my heart was made—
In molten realms,
oceans deep.
It is resilient, kind and strong,
Filled with warmth and space.
A place to unmask your face
and shelter from the storm.
It could weave the glinting eye of nature,
with dynasties of the wind.
It could house a thousand swimming turtles,
abreast. Akin.
It’s got commodious chambers,
lush with fertile earth,
fresh air
and finery, unseen.
Yet, it is fierce,
Like a wind furnace,
Filled with embers.
Capable.
Strong.
It burns.
Sometimes, it frightens me.
It holds great burdens, in its own time—
And releases them to the winds.
Stronger and stronger, each time.
I am grateful—for this heart of mine.
It’s made of craggy mountains,
tipped with snow
and the depth of a raging ocean,
down below.
It knows.
And then it sees you.
And—
like an anemone,
suddenly
swallows itself.
My bones seem ill at ease.
I am a mariner,
Adrift in an epic sea.
I’ve lost my sea legs.
I laugh and cringe as they rattle,
like two bowling pins, beneath me.
I feel strong—afraid—strong—afraid.
Back in the rooms of my heart,
The floor gives way.
Will you catch me?
~
Author: Catherine Simmons
Image: Instagram @goya.rose
Editor: Yoli Ramazzina
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