These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

My Heart, Revisited

1974:

My heart is like a rocket.
-------When her name is mentioned,
My heart leaps to the sky;
-------but when I think of reality,
My heart loses its exuberance.
-------It falls to the ground, and
My heart shatters into infinite pieces.
-------I try with all my might to mend it; but
My heart is hopeless,
-------so I gather the pieces, and put
My heart into my pocket.

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2024:

My heart was such a fickle thing
when youthful way back then.
It shot itself up to the moon
for love, it could not win.

My heart, depressed, it stalled and fell.
It shattered on the ground,
not knowing, that the Plan of God
would lift me and abound.

My heart tried with my earthly might
to mend me and renew.
The pieces were so small and trite,
not knowing what to do.

My heart was hopeless as a youth.
The pieces there were laid.
Just placing them in pocket's truth
was not made new. So stayed.

My heart is older. Now, it knows,
that sometimes pain's a gift
for in the wind, a tree most grows,
airplanes know greatest lift.

by Jay O’Toole
on March 20th, 2024