what the heart knows….
The doe shields the fawn,
the robin tilts its head to the ground listening,
a full-throated croak comes from a nearby pond.
Sometimes I know what I’m supposed to do too.
But I am also like the moth on the lampshade,
the possum halted in the middle of the road,
the fish tantalized by the flickering lure.
Confused, dazed, I blunder,
forgetting what my heart knows.
This is what my heart knows:
hold close, listen, love.