DARING HEARTS-
Tell me, how did your heart
become so daring, so bold?
How do you spin such ripen
fruit on tongue, threading hope
into wounded and broken hearts
just the way you do?
Your voice isn't soft, it doesn't
bleed-on or crack. It's deep
in timbre and rich, yet, ever still
your lips stay soft and steady…
Tell me, how do you do it?
How does a man speak as deep
in kindness as he feels?
It's a bit of a conundrum really,
a riddle perhaps.
A witty little puzzle to unravel
some staggering surprise,
that later-
stabs you in the back.
maybe not-
I'll tell you though,
it was the first time I wasn't scared.
I just sat quite still, wide-eyed
and exposed below cherrywood
beams, safely soothed under an open
canopy that was yours and that also
seemed to be mine.
We shared honey fare like they were
passing clouds, each one having its
own unique shape and design, until
we both looked up and saw our own
thoughts floating by... deep...
in the sky...
I asked you to speak your poem to me
in the way you truly feel it because
when you hand me your heart,
I want to keep it even closer to mine.
I want to know the strength and rhythm
deep inside your being; the one
that moves you, that grooves you,
that has you rich and wild on that jazzy
beat and tone underneath my skin,
thumping on the brass bell in July, we
mix and mingle a beguiling combination;
steady and strong, light and breezy,
untamed, unashamed-
Come stroll with me in the park,
let’s pause between - the beats
to help us better hear the heart.
One step at a time, we carved
strawberry-striped paths,
spinning against time to find the right
direction toward a watered-down world.
Can you feel it moving up, you said?
Well, was it the world that just lifted
or was it your soul that seemed to grow
just a little bit higher in nature?
Broken paths find their way straight
among tiny purple maple trees and wild
grasses screaming yellow.
It's days like this, when peace hangs
in air like soft clouds cling to sky.
It's palpable, the silence-
it's only heard through the felt sense
and if you're lucky,
maybe your eyes will catch a glimpse
of it, when you think to look.
Peace is ever-present; it hangs
from summer leaves like dewdrops
at dawn hold steady just a little longer
before they sail toward earth.
It rises in weed and pasture,
fills desires in dandelions, flutters-by
on striped tails kicking up loose dirt,
sliding safe into auburn bushes.
Peace is sweet, she dangles
from legs, swinging feet above cracked
stone with no fear of being swallowed.
Her child inside surprised, when they
found her name in the chuckle patch
and you-
were fascinated to watch water drizzle
down rocks going nowhere but staying
ever present.
Soon, my head laid comfort on your
shoulder. We watched the weeping
willows whisper the bird’s song,
skyward and peace came upon us,
placed our hands together beneath
twined grapevines and swirling
affection through bloomed fingertips.
Where do we explore next, I said…?
Let's go find some chubby green frogs
sitting on rocks in the stream. Blow a
thousand white wishes across the fields,
watch ground hogs dive under
abandoned barns then cross brooks
over rocks to dance and twirl by street
lamps in the parking lot.
We chased the dream,
all the way until light fell in our eyes,
lying still... under sparklers ablaze,
never felt so calm.
How did such a star-spangled night find us...?
How did you call upon moonlight, draped
over face and oval eyes...?
How did time move breath, breathing
into belly's, holding onto the others
content ever... so... gently...?
It's okay...
Place your soft kisses on my lips
and stay there for a little awhile,
even a little longer still...
because the moments before are so
fleeting.
Night draws black curtains just before
the plunge into darkness and darkness,
moves on without us until there's no more
but I'm still here and you’re there-
Then I thought, when did my heart
become so daring, so bold?
- J. Circosta, Tiny Poet
Daring Hearts - For Jared, ©7.7.2017
Poems from Passion
Tell me, how did your heart
become so daring, so bold?
How do you spin such ripen
fruit on tongue, threading hope
into wounded and broken hearts
just the way you do?
Your voice isn't soft, it doesn't
bleed-on or crack. It's deep
in timbre and rich, yet, ever still
your lips stay soft and steady…
Tell me, how do you do it?
How does a man speak as deep
in kindness as he feels?
It's a bit of a conundrum really,
a riddle perhaps.
A witty little puzzle to unravel
some staggering surprise,
that later-
stabs you in the back.
maybe not-
I'll tell you though,
it was the first time I wasn't scared.
I just sat quite still, wide-eyed
and exposed below cherrywood
beams, safely soothed under an open
canopy that was yours and that also
seemed to be mine.
We shared honey fare like they were
passing clouds, each one having its
own unique shape and design, until
we both looked up and saw our own
thoughts floating by... deep...
in the sky...
I asked you to speak your poem to me
in the way you truly feel it because
when you hand me your heart,
I want to keep it even closer to mine.
I want to know the strength and rhythm
deep inside your being; the one
that moves you, that grooves you,
that has you rich and wild on that jazzy
beat and tone underneath my skin,
thumping on the brass bell in July, we
mix and mingle a beguiling combination;
steady and strong, light and breezy,
untamed, unashamed-
Come stroll with me in the park,
let’s pause between - the beats
to help us better hear the heart.
One step at a time, we carved
strawberry-striped paths,
spinning against time to find the right
direction toward a watered-down world.
Can you feel it moving up, you said?
Well, was it the world that just lifted
or was it your soul that seemed to grow
just a little bit higher in nature?
Broken paths find their way straight
among tiny purple maple trees and wild
grasses screaming yellow.
It's days like this, when peace hangs
in air like soft clouds cling to sky.
It's palpable, the silence-
it's only heard through the felt sense
and if you're lucky,
maybe your eyes will catch a glimpse
of it, when you think to look.
Peace is ever-present; it hangs
from summer leaves like dewdrops
at dawn hold steady just a little longer
before they sail toward earth.
It rises in weed and pasture,
fills desires in dandelions, flutters-by
on striped tails kicking up loose dirt,
sliding safe into auburn bushes.
Peace is sweet, she dangles
from legs, swinging feet above cracked
stone with no fear of being swallowed.
Her child inside surprised, when they
found her name in the chuckle patch
and you-
were fascinated to watch water drizzle
down rocks going nowhere but staying
ever present.
Soon, my head laid comfort on your
shoulder. We watched the weeping
willows whisper the bird’s song,
skyward and peace came upon us,
placed our hands together beneath
twined grapevines and swirling
affection through bloomed fingertips.
Where do we explore next, I said…?
Let's go find some chubby green frogs
sitting on rocks in the stream. Blow a
thousand white wishes across the fields,
watch ground hogs dive under
abandoned barns then cross brooks
over rocks to dance and twirl by street
lamps in the parking lot.
We chased the dream,
all the way until light fell in our eyes,
lying still... under sparklers ablaze,
never felt so calm.
How did such a star-spangled night find us...?
How did you call upon moonlight, draped
over face and oval eyes...?
How did time move breath, breathing
into belly's, holding onto the others
content ever... so... gently...?
It's okay...
Place your soft kisses on my lips
and stay there for a little awhile,
even a little longer still...
because the moments before are so
fleeting.
Night draws black curtains just before
the plunge into darkness and darkness,
moves on without us until there's no more
but I'm still here and you’re there-
Then I thought, when did my heart
become so daring, so bold?
- J. Circosta, Tiny Poet
Daring Hearts - For Jared, ©7.7.2017
Poems from Passion
