Heart Culture

The heart was born a Garden of Eden.

The longing for this most Lushious state,

Seeking nothing more than Love as fate.

Collaged by Flowers and Plants of the most sensitive breeds,

Rich air, water, soil and sun are its needs.

Its Beauty is as fragile as a Bubble of Glass,

With Warmth of fullness and depth of Brass.

But a misguided tap and a wrong footed step,

Could create a stabbing pain to one’s Chest.

The journey about this delicate garden,

Creaks with the crackling of fallen leaves,

A breath too heavy a storm to its trees.

The hovering cloud too fat would bring a chill,

And a light too glaring, an unsettling thrill.

Upon a hill stands its crystal shrine,

Who could omnisciently reach its wine?

A substance aged well over time…

The journey to the heart of heart,

Where every tip toe seems miles apart.

Calling a roamer with a balance so fine,

Who could float about it like a dandelion…