Heart of Flesh

Hard-shelled like hard shellack, a hardened short

Shackle so loosely but firmly surrounding

This my heart of stone. If I should bemoan

I don’t feel love, if I should mourn the lack of

 

Union with my God, certainly I would

Appeal to this lead weight, it’s several inches

Thick, it encapsulates it; it’s wooden-like

But a deadweight - a weight that suffocates.

 

Wouldn’t it be better if it would just fall?

Peel off by layer, or better yet break;

A barrier I would have severely

Fashioned, clearly now, with sins of vices:

 

Haughtiness and soaring pride; pushing my

Way, ever my will at every turn!

Ah the weight of it dear Lady of Montserrat.

I’m trapped, snatch me from this encampment of

 

Concupiscence; this encasement of

Irascibility: a double scourge of

Kryptonite!  If it takes a whole life,

From night to day, I’ll wait for this shield to

 

Fall; to fall for good and finally reveal,

Dear Lady of Montserrat,

A real soft beating, loving heart of flesh.

 

Gary Edward Geraci