The Heart Cries Out

The heart cries out,
Even,
And especially,
When the tongue fails.

Words cannot say
What we feel,
Just as our bodies often fail
To convey
The impulses that drive them.

At times I
Wish there was a way
To give voice to
The pulse that runs beneath.

She tells me to draw,
Despite objections that I cannot,
“With your left hand,”
She tells me;
“You will stop trying to make it look good
And instead concern yourself with what it means.”

3 thoughts on “The Heart Cries Out

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