God has looked into my heart,
Not at it, but into my heart —
Introspectively,
Microscopically,
Spirtual-scopically...

That lumpy piece of flesh,
holding all my fears, snears, cheers, and revears:

The terror of that lone gunman lurking nearby, forcing a town and the State to ransom for a “new world order.”

The criticisms of others...

Accomplishments in life you held as a goal, not sure if you’d ever bring into the fol’.

And my eternal hope, alarming me when I feel I can’t cope...
Essential to keep me alive,
Essential for me to thrive,
And arrive into my ‘be-ing’.

But it is a bumpy piece of flesh,
Scared with wounds,
Pushed and prodded,
Pumped and plodded
in life, with life
And through life...


“Oh, my heart...”