How She Regained Her Soul

 

The heart was the last to go

but left a clue where to find her:

a smooth river rock

heavy in my chest

I knew long before—

an image had relayed the nature of her plea—

a vision of us together

feeling the wind breathe the trees

For so long I resisted the urge

slapped it away

like a mosquito fat and slow

after gorging on blood

I was busy

Then another vision, equally impractical –

an image of myself hiking in a blue silk blouse

a knapsack across my body

filled only with water, paper, pen

The visions came when tears couldn’t

as the veneer of a confident face

tried to hide

a weighty heart of stone

When emotions upwelled

I composed reasons to resist –

Can one really hike in silk?

Can one really survive on water, paper, and pen?

Heart and head had been apart so long everything was literal

Like breadcrumbs on a trail

the visions led to a canyon

where a pool of cool water

sat motionless in the desert sun

By now insane with loss of heart

I tried to become the beckoning vision

flew to the desert to scout

a trail in a box canyon

I took more than water, paper, pen

wore microfiber instead of silk

followed the path to its end

a pond of murky water

I lingered but heart was not there

only a small spotted trout

I laughed at myself

for trying so hard

Heart is a gentle trickster —

the way she manipulated my desire

for reason and proof

left me curious and wanting more

 

I’ll let you think you’re right

I heard heart whisper

when you say

I just needed a change in scenery

 

Though just in case

I joined a poetry class

took up painting

spent more time with friends

 

Now she says to us—

Yes, I was quite stressed back then

as we put on a blue blouse

head out early to breathe the trees.