From The Heart: Poem

My heart, composer of

Its own myriads of

Pain

My heart, breaking at

Every exit from the beloved’s

Lane

My heart, confounder of

A little blemish into a lifelong

Stain

My heart, the weary traveller

Late for every departing

Train

My heart, the all-sensing

Seer who is but questionably

Sane

My heart, the blind fool

Who still perceives you in every

Grain

My heart, the receiver

Of the world’s rational

Disdain

My heart, the wisest

For it does not calculate in loss or

Gain