The heart of all things
Heartbeat,
yet another heartbeat.
There are a finite number of them, regular and precise.
Optimally,
the heart is stout
but a wavering and uncertain heartbeat
can carry us forward
- oft times -
to a greater solidarity.
The heart understands.
The heart appreciates.
The heart contributes
and produces
even without
our instruction.
She is patient.
She knows
her own limitations
and her own
finite nature.
She\'s not in a hurry.
She will wait for us.
She does fail over time
- slowly, mostly -
but sometimes with great suddenness.
Present with us or not,
she understands
that there is no thing
called time.
She emerges and disappears
like the arriving
and the departing
of the wind.
The fluttering of leaves
is the symphonic
oscillation
of the primordial
heartbeat.
All things movable
are set in motion
by the beating of this heart,
and when at last
this heart
is quieted,
there is no loss.
She will beat again
in another place
with the same
assuredness,
confidence
and reliability
until,
like the breaching whale,
she submerges once more
into the depths
of her quiet,
unseen,
and
indiscernible
birthplace
and homeland.
She comes,
and she goes-
this is the
heart
of all
things.