WillSpirit!

The tumbleweed’s heart aches for the infinite plain. It is
Ready to rock and roll! It is
Yearning to careen and skitter beneath telephone cables,
Shadowed by nectar bats and rising moons.

The heart of a bumblebee buzzes with nectar-lust.
A connoisseur of fine floral lines, she draws sweetness.

My heart thrums among trees that remember Jesus.
They stand broader than my pick up truck, and much
Higher than an apartment I once had on the tenth floor.

The snail’s heart has neither chambers nor valves.
It pumps the way a worm moves, stroking the blood,
Coaxing life forward.

The bacterium has no heart,
And could not care less.
It lives its short moment with the gusto of a pirate,
Before splitting in two and starting over.

I would love to start over.
I have already split in two.

There is the part that screamed into a pillow at midnight
On the psychiatric ward,
And left the hospital to find a carefully written life
Story in ruins.

And there is the part that sees a person rebuilt in every mirror,
Damaged, dented, and held together with telephone cable.

I am stronger than before.
I am communication, and stumbling flight, and peristalsis.
I am solid and tall with gallons of gusto.

Alive, I see my heart everywhere.
It is chambered and ready to fire!