To Marcy Howard

Can a heart die more than once, or is it once and done,
As a speeding bullet strikes, though not fired from a gun,
If words become the bullet, to pierce the broken heart,
Can words still resuscitate, what’s been blown apart.
 
 
Does the blood that flows, change if mixed with pain,
Or does it manifest itself, in the tears that fell like rain,
Can a dream revive us, if darkness becomes where we live,
But if the dreams become our world, what benefit does daylight give.
 
 
When a dream is all you have, does it make emotion die,
Or do the dreams steal the light, that lives inside the eye,
If the soul controls the healing, can a word extinguish the flame,
Because if we allow the words to win, love becomes a game.
 
 
The physical portion of our lives, is just a trivial test,
There is love so profound, it transcends all the rest,
Healing can come from holding on, and love can’t escape detection,
And all the things I believe of you, become a broken heart’s resurrection.
.       Only you.

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