The heart that John heard

Many times and seasons pretend to sway our way,

and drop their hints of monotony – but fail.


Few are the banks of shuddered-down snow

on pathways already hidden from our feet.


Many are the pedals on wayward flowers

refusing a lesser share of their own song.


Few are the words ill-spoken from lips

more accustomed to smile or kiss.


Many the moving notes from the still page,

to still the ravaged breast will come.


Few, or none, the children, playground-found,

whose voices, loud and ardent, disappoint.


Many weary eyes are pointed upward where

hills, apart and distant, croon.


Few there be to quell the wish of

night-fallen star-gazers seeking.


And altogether, met and threaded down,

in aching stillness from the heart that John heard.

2 thoughts on “The heart that John heard

  1. First reaction: “This is perfect!” … Now that’s established, I’ll go back for a second, third and fourth read. I’ve probably said this before but I can’t wait for these to be put in a book I can take to read in faraway places with no WiFi.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s