Two days ago, I went out to the yard to see a friend and I glanced down. On the ground amongst the gravel was a heart shaped stone.
My thoughts:
A sign!
I quickly grabbed the stone and pocked it with shades of, I hope the police weren’t waiting to swarm the moment I picked it up. (they weren’t) but it is one of the odd effects of being locked up for so many years, you always feel you are the bad guy and you are doing something wrong…I don’t know.
So I pocketed the stone, in my head questioning it’s purpose. Why did I find you today? In that moment, I had shade of deja vu, like I wrote something once about a heart of stone. But I couldn’t quite remember. It was just a feeling that there was something more. So I went and dug through my old books and there it was…and old poem I wrote about a heart of stone. Here’s what I found:
Grey days break
over a formless music
that remembered oblivion
So many times
he lived on only a memory
in that silence
Ancient corpses
and broken sand dollars
rising and falling
against the ashen
driftwood of yesterday
His shores lined
with the trees of regret
deep lilacs
forming
clandestine cages
around serpentine sorrows
All his prayers
were carried away
by the wolves
of the breakwater
The boy’s age
a little older
his mountains
the darkening land
of old transelvanias
His question
the only thing
that begged the fading light
“If only my heart were stone