Living Tree Poetry

The human heart is a deep deep well.

Or a sky blue

until we’ve fallen in,
and then its indigo

until its black,
and everything then

is done by feel.

The human heart is a wide wide expanse.

Of desert, and wildernesses

and wild flowers
springing where we’ve not tread.

And of vistas,
such that the heart holds its tongue,

no words for this.

The human heart is a wide eyed girl.

And a man, smiling.

There are feelings that defy
explanations,

that feel like all our breath
is pushing out the chest –

a coming alive.

Yes, the human heart is a heavy thing

when anchored down by gravity.

Which is just
as well,

for otherwise we’d all just be
specks against a sunset sky,

buoyed by the wonder of everything.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry
January 2020