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  • Writer's pictureBrett

One Beat More

"One Beat More"

It is her heart that speaks to me, in the quiet of the night.

Not her anxious tales of the day, her tasks.

Instead I hear the bright heart inside.

She does not speak in words, but images of both heaven and hell held within.

The world has been no more kind to her than any other.

Yet it is her strength that owns it.

Knowing her heart is hers to protect from the elements.

But not from me.

Her open choice, to let me in.

I was not the first, but I am the last.

Should I falter, we both will abandon all hope.

Not because of me, but through my reminder - that delicate hearts hold real consequences.

It is her heart that speaks out in the quiet of the night while she sleeps.

I learn this and so much more.

Her heart knows not the pain it inflicts, nor of the past it has seen.

Her heart knowing the power of now and the hope of connection.

So I will let my heart go, freeing it to tell her of my leaps of joy with her in my arms.

Connected even when she is not there.

I am in, I am not the first, but I hope to be the last.

Because it is my heart that speaks to her in the quiet of the night

Connected, one heart to another, by choice - by chance.

One beat at a time, by choice.

Until the choice has too much to bear...and then, just one beat more.

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