In Celebration of

My Hart

__________

At first glance I am a temple in full form,

A crown of fuzzy hair,

An eye that mirrors the earth’s embrace,

A long-fingered, quick sprinting, always smiling, always laughing, “always happy,”

beacon of light

Never dimming

Never in need of repair

My temple is a shoulder to cry on,

A crutch to lean on,

A therapist to vent to,

A protector,

Never crying, never rattled, never bending,

Never in need of repair

Inside this temple I store my Hart,

And to find it you must follow the warm smell of Grandpa Gerry’s barbeque

The Southern sound of Jazz from Grandma Victoria’s voice

The decadent taste of potato salad and deviled eggs from Grandma Lois

And the exhausting feeling of a full body workout with Grandpa Julian

You must look for safeguarding layers of rock and tired machète warriors,

Tattered Detroit Lions memorabilia and chewed up Wii controllers,

Black fist and white picket fences,

Scarlet red headphones and my first pair of Kobe basketball shoes,

Until you find my Hart

Stepping inside the walls are adorned with photographs

Gerry, Julian, Victoria and Lois within these frames,

Each one contributing to this temple

Each couch embodying kindness instilled in me

Each lamp reminding me of divine love

And two fruitful ferns blooming in the image of my brothers