As there is depth to the ocean <br />There is an infinite calling to my heart: <br />The variety of sparks flying <br />Tragically evolve from one <br />To many <br />To all-consuming. <br /> <br />These sparks may be wings <br />(Sudden flutter of wings) , <br />Sad large brown eyes <br />Of cattle, horse or donkey <br />Preceding their cruel bending <br />At the hands of humans; <br />The sparks can be stars <br />Or many stars, galaxies. <br /> <br />The dead are calling to me. <br />My heart is an open container. <br />It is not really my property; <br />It is the conclusion of my pain.<br /><br />Stan Petrovich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-heart-297/
