O Heart

This heart a box of memories blue
of silent prayers and a thousand elegies;
of sluggish dawns after a painful loss,
wounding our grief with yesterday.

But O heart heart heart
tattered by the brutal past
Accept what comes from silence
Let light permeate your conscience.

For those, who we have lost, may not return
But oh, there may come a moment of renaissance,
of a vision that’s beautiful and rare,
to heal the bruise I daily wear.

Oh let those crystalline moments shine
like musical notes, ascend forever
For the miles away they ventured;
we’ve still miles to go.

© 2021 | Prerna |