O, you burdened heart,
Don’t numb now;
There’s much to pump out,
Into the vessels, the living leaves that fall.

Listen close, there’s much for you to hear:
In the scraping of some steel,
In the seller’s scheming speech;
You, too, are a part of me.

And though you may quiver,
See the faintest of shivers,
In the neighbour’s greeting smile,
Or the children’s flittering eyes.

See the flicker in that tea light,
The sauntering smoke that calls for you,
It’s only a matter of time,
Do you hear the quaint crackle?
Keep the dagger down, not yet-

For when you run out of blood,
You’re as good as any atom;
Though your life may not be hard-won,
Don’t back down before a battle.

Like an Achilles-reincarnate,
Trace the chasm in the pavement;
Tether to the sodden soil that breaks,
Just once, before you elevate.

Then again – and again –
Till Time itself has lost,
Look around:
The birds still perch,
On the branches that still bend,
And the roots are still entangled,
Ageing, till it all forms a pattern.

O, you meandering heart,
Don’t numb now;
The blood would still ooze out,
As the tears dry into a scar.

The Barbaric Yawp