The Nature of the Heart

Though I can never know

the machinations of another’s thought,

though I can’t know

the mazes their heart gets lost in,

I can know the nature of the heart itself,

that clear and liquid thing

whose surface trembles

but whose inner depth

if full and pure and still,

quenching every thirst that finds it,

sending out its searchlight signals,

waiting to be found.

©Wendy Mulhern

March 8, 2018