“You have captured my heart!”
Really, Solomon? I thought that you were wise!
What does the language of war have to do with love?
My heart’s no hostage – it’s mine to give
and I can take it back at any time (not without
consequence, I dare say) but I give it all the same.
I give it to be guarded in a sweet exchange,
valuing the one received more highly still –
a strange arrangement this – that we should keep
each other’s hearts? Not like a plant in a pot
that I might forget to water nor a flower
in a vase, already dead, but a living organ transplant.
It beats still within your chest and yours in mine: my hopes
and dreams sustained inside your body, my blood carrying
your DNA – I wouldn’t have it any other way.
A heart thus enlarged by living in another’s space
can grow, develop and embrace
more life than one that’s only known its own comfort.
This heart makes room for love – others will nest here
till their hearts grow into freedom,
for love is always given away.
That’s why it’s valued more than jewels or the crowns they make
and though I gave the costliest thing I owned
I never can, nor will be, poor again.
Hear me read this poem HERE