Spoken From the Heart
Her heart spoke,
Love him and smile
the words you could never say.
And let those words come out of you—
Then, it will be true.
It can’t be that easy.
I am sixteen, strong, out of my mind.
I fell in love here, then there,
then here in this town on the ocean.
I am the only one who fell for him.
The steps from the ocean lead into my heart through his words,
then I cross the line
into his smile, his laugh,
and I come to the core, the love core,
where I take his sigh up to my room,
sit down, and write this wonder:
It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me
at this age, confused.
But I guess I’m what he sees and I feel
and he hears, Love, I hear you:
hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page. (I hear my soul too.)
Me—who?
Well, I like to dream, think, wonder, and be in love.
I like to listen, understand, live, and create love
I like a heart to warm or someone to warm mine—mine, yours, or theirs.
I guess being in love
doesn’t make me NOT like the same things those who lack love like.
So will my wonder be red?
Being love, it will not be black.
But it will be a part of you, my love.
You are mine—Yet a part of you is me,
as I am a slice of you.
That’s heart.
Sometimes perhaps I don’t want to be love.
Nor does love want to be me.
But we are, that’s true!
As I learn from you,I guess you learn from me— although you’re stronger—and smart— and somewhat more free.
This is my wonder for thee.
