The Weather of the Heart

In the weather of the heart and soul

A symphony of emotions unfold

From damp to dry, the golden shot

A storm within the freezing tomb, a fierce onslaught

 

The quarter of the veins, a weathered domain

Turning night to day, blood in their suns, a pulsing refrain

Lights up the living worm, igniting the flame

Of life, of love, of passion, a never-ending game

 

In the eye, a forewarning of the bones

Blindness creeping in, a darkness that enthrone

The womb driving in a death as life leaks out

A paradox of existence, a whisper, a shout

 

A darkness in the weather of the eye

Is half its light, the fathomed sea, a mystery in sight

Breaks on unangled land, a force unfurled

Unveiling the depths, the secrets of the world

 

The seed that makes a forest of the loin

Forks half its fruit, and half drops down, in a silent join

Slow in a sleeping wind, the cycle of life

Unfolding before us, amidst joy and strife

 

In the flesh and bone, a weathered tale is told

Damp and dry, the quick and dead, intertwined in a mold

Moving like two ghosts before the eye

A dance of life and death, a never-ending sigh

 

In the weather of the world, a process unfolds

Turning ghost to ghost, each mothered child holds

Sits in their double shade, a duality of existence

A reflection of the past, a glimpse of persistence

 

Blowing the moon into the sun, a transformation complete

Pulling down the shabby curtains of the skin, a bittersweet defeat

And the heart gives up its dead, releasing the pain

A cycle of life and love, in the weather of the heart's refrain. ("The Weather of the Heart") by Courtney Weaver Jr