Timbre of the Heart

A rare bird indeed

we are exotic, an ancient lineage

migrated south.

We are two much, one to know another

protect, preserve our own our offspring,

territorial ties that wound

What we love, what is it?

The glorious plumage?

A splendour to behold

The sound of our call, cool, titillating talk?

are but echoes in the sky.

No, much more than that.

The most glorious sound to adore

is the heart beating in our chests

Listen, my friend, keenly –

look with those two deep oceans you keep.

See – every word, move, motion,

every flash in the eye, affection

reveals the timbre of the heart.

 

Hidden deep

While brothers and sisters were engaged

in a turf war on a global scale

A cold front, hardened, caught adrift

Floats away without mainsail

 

The emptiness perturbed them

As far as the eye could see

But watchful for horizon

Warmer shores come expectantly

 

But, little do they know how

a hot sea current can act

Upon their frozen precipice

They have escaped the simple fact

 

For underneath the narrow tip

the sea sick clambering, cling

A hull full of dangerous cargo

in the underbelly bring

 

All baggage, loot and baffles-full

of stowaways, bilge and gas

No room for living passengers

Just a burly lump of mass

 

The lot on top think handsomely

of their talent at nautical stuff

But from Captain down to Seamen

They’re playing blind man’s bluff

 

While many heard their tale

of floating like sea birds

Many passing ships do fear

The invisible iceberg.

Iceberg