My Heart Is Not at Peace

if my heart were at peace

would it be a blossom?

or, satisfied, would it be a stone?

my heart is not at peace.

I woke up hungry.

there is wind but there's no song.

a satisfied heart,

half sleeping through the days

in the wind, in the home.

if my heart were at peace

I would have closed the doors and windows.

satisfaction feels like a tomb.

I was writhing in the tomb

my heart a frozen boulder

the "romance" and all I'd rejected

comes like music on the wind.

the violence in my heart,

the stone in the mountain,

all destroyed by the burning wind

all revealed by the sweeping broom