Wild Heart Writers : Day 06

Day 06: So tell me. If you were here next to me right now, and you granted me the grace of allowing me to hear. If your heartbeat sounded like a word, or a song or a whispered truth, what would I hear if I pressed my ear to your chest?


"I think if you lifted my heart to your ear, you could probably hear the ocean." Sally writes this, and I know it is true.

Not because it is empty, but because it is vast.

Because my heart is ever changing, always shifting with the currents of my life.

Because there will forever be unplumbed depths.

Because there is a howling, wind whipping against rocky cliffs, residing in my superior vena cava, ready to cleanse.

This is where my wildness is life blood.

Because there, right there, in my atria is where it all collects, fills me up. A dragnet of memories. Waves upon waves.

This is where it all begins.

Because there are aortic tides, and in each tide a name. A moment. A wish. They flow through my body, pulling me under, pushing me further.

This is where I am swept away.

Because there are chambers, vacant caves with the echoes of regret, wet and cold. There is no peace here, no silence-- just the roar of it all. It clouds my head when I shut my eyes tight.

This is where I am lost at sea.

This is where I take shelter.

My heart … oh, my heart as it beats, crashing against my chest, barely contained, is the sea monster and the siren. The lullaby and the danger.

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