The Well of Your Heart.

Don’t forget these murky depths, as you shake loose the last of forgotten fingerprints from your heart, shaking your heart like a fragile snowglobe swirling with fresh snowfall that you know is really just the same flurry recycling adrift  in the same confined cage. Shaking the roots free from clustered coils of dusty dry dirt, the same way you disentangle the interwoven web of gnarled roots from a plant that has outgrown it’s latest container, letting the old dirt sprinkle down and away before nestling the plant in its new home, encircling the weary roots in fresh, damp, silky soil, letting them take up space, spread towards the edges, fall where they may amidst new earth. 

Don’t forget these murky depths, the way they grip onto every facet of your being, gripping so tight that your heart goes into paralysis, your brain  stuck like a groove on a scratched record, repeating the last loop of living that you remember experiencing any sensation in. in in in in 

Don’t forget these murky depths when your heart feels bright and light and buoyant, when you know your glow rivals the sun on a mid winter day- the way the reflection off the glossy sheen of the purest snow makes you squint your eyes and look away, lest you blind yourself from the piercing refraction.

Don’t forget these murky depths, the ones that keep you small, keep your heart hidden, keep you from saying your name proudly, loudly, repeating it if someone didn’t catch it the first time around.

Don’t forget these depths, the ones that carve out the well of your heart to new extremes. Sometimes it feels as if the well is so deep, your heart could waterfall over and provide nourishment for all of manhattan during the driest, hottest of summers. 

Dont forget these murky depths, when your old skin is shed and you are dancing around brilliantly in the shimmering brightness of dawn, shoulders shimmying, hips twisting, face tilted up towards the sky.

Dont forget these depths-

And don’t be afraid to let them go, either. 

For these depths are not you, are not who you are, do not define you- and do not belong to you indefinitely.

Dont forget these murky depths,

Only if to remind you of how deep your roots are/ How expansive your heart can be/ How fascinating the shadowed corners of your soul truly are/ How magical the light looks refracting from the shattered edges of you, sending rainbows off in all directions.

No, don’t forget these murky depths, even as you remember the heights of your brilliant light.