a roomy heart

I thought that everyone knew Scott was gone but even today I ran into someone that used to sell flowers at the farmers market where I also sell my art. She did not know.

“He was a nice man,” she said. Yes. He was.

What’s different is it doesn’t feel like my heart is being ripped out anymore when I tell someone the news. In the two years that he’s gone I have even managed to have some new happy times that are now happy memories. They don’t replace the memories of Happy Times With Scott. Impossibly, unexpectedly, I have discovered that my heart has more space in it than I realized before. It’s a big ol’ roomy heart. A Rumi heart.

Sometimes I wonder, sweetest love, if you
Were a mere dream in along winter night,
A dream of spring-days, and of golden light
Which sheds its rays upon a frozen heart;
A dream of wine that fills the drunken eye.

And so I wonder, sweetest love, if I
Should drink this ruby wine, or rather weep;
Each tear a bezel with your face engraved,
A rosary to memorize your name…

There are so many ways to call you back-
Yes, even if you only were a dream.

One thought on “a roomy heart

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