Through The Heart
I see through the heart like glass,
Opening the books of the mouth;
My solutions are clearer than the lips
That politely shut to avoid duty.
My lies are so much absent and present,
Begging is no escape, begging is no properness.
To solve the riddle of the past
We must solve ourselves like the heart.
Open this organ of hidden qualities
Like the opening of a drum and song.
Long and hard we seem to strum like a past,
A past well hidden at last, particularly now.
The heart is hidden in height as a weight,
We wait and we wait, the heart is fond.
poem by Naveed Akram
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