your heart, I wish I could see it laid out before me,
like when I watch a cellist play their part beautifully,
wood and sinew, bow and flesh,
enmesh,
in a dance, where notes fall like a wash of tears,
which run down, laughing so hard at the sadness,
as notes ascend and descend.
the chest rises and falls,
and all I want to see, in truth, is your heart,
the cello braced for news good or bad that
you are about to share, but not your heart,
please don't play me for a fool, I'm not an
instrument too, that you have found boxy,
and poorly made with materials that age fades,
what will you do, when I can no longer hold
my tune?
your heart, I need to see the path you are going to walk,
so we can go side by side, no secrets, our touch is real, with
no distance, so we can in whispered voices, talk, not like the
bow that makes those strings sing, or the pressure of those
fingers to get the notes just so, no...
Like the notes on the aged sheet music, the dark spots and lines
now fade, here and there but remember, the music we once moved
to, now moves us in our memories, treasured and measured beats,
your heart has shaped them, whole notes have become half notes and changed my life...
now reveal to me will we ever share a destiny?
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 2:03 AM UTC
your heart, I wish I could see it laid out before me,
like when I watch a cellist play their part beautifully,
wood and sinew, bow and flesh,
enmesh,
in a dance, where notes fall like a wash of tears,
which run down, laughing so hard at the sadness,
as notes ascend and descend.
the chest rises and falls,
and all I want to see, in truth, is your heart,
the cello braced for news good or bad that
you are about to share, but not your heart,
please don't play me for a fool, I'm not an
instrument too, that you have found boxy,
and poorly made with materials that age fades,
what will you do, when I can no longer hold
my tune?
your heart, I need to see the path you are going to walk,
so we can go side by side, no secrets, our touch is real, with
no distance, so we can in whispered voices, talk, not like the
bow that makes those strings sing, or the pressure of those
fingers to get the notes just so, no...
Like the notes on the aged sheet music, the dark spots and lines
now fade, here and there but remember, the music we once moved
to, now moves us in our memories, treasured and measured beats,
your heart has shaped them, whole notes have become half notes and changed my life...
now reveal to me will we ever share a destiny?
there was a beautiful girl long ago and her name was your heart
for as nice as she was, as beautiful as she was, as strong as she was, she would be broken.
And "Your heart will be where your treasure is." Luke 12:34
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