The Big Heart

Big heart,

wide as a watermelon,

but wise as birth,

there is so much abundance

in the people I have:

Max, Lois, Joe, Louise,

Joan, Marie, Dawn,

Arlene, Father Dunne,

and all in their short lives

give to me repeatedly,

in the way the sea

places its many fingers on the shore,

again and again

and they know me,

they help me unravel,

they listen with ears made of conch shells,

they speak back with the wine of the best region.

They are my staff.

They comfort me.

They hear how

the artery of my soul has been severed

and soul is spurting out upon them,

bleeding on them,

Messing up their clothes,

dirtying their shoes.

And God is filling me,

though there times of doubt

as hollow as the Grand Canyon,

still God is filling me

He/she is giving me the thoughts of dogs,

the spider inits intricate web,

the sun

in all its amazement,

and a slain ram

that is the glory,

the mystery of great cost,

and my heart,

which is very big,

I promise it is very large,

a monster of sorts,

takes it all in—

all in comes the fury of love.

—Anne Sexton

“Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold”

—From an essay by W. B. Yeats

 

 

 

 

May Peace Prevail