how is it that my wild, wily
heart can hold so many
conflicting feelings
at the same time,
and contradict itself
with every beat? riddle me
this:
I think of you and feel such a
fond tenderness for our
newness, the excitement of
life reborn, the elemental power
of green plants growing,
plants pollinating, trees bursting
with sap. but all this rapid,
rampant growth comes at a price.
old, dead plants and thoughts
and habits must be ripped up
by the roots, to make way for their
successors. that pain of
an old wound inadvertantly
reopened, one that I thought
fully healed, but now I see that
I only understood that time
in my parents’ life from
the outside looking in.
R. Brookes McKenzie 