A Weak Heart Poem by David Thomas

Legs of pistons
that pump and move quickly.
Eyes of no range
that see the darkest of lost souls.
Hands of line and crack
that have lifted others off broken back.
Arms of msucle
that have hugged tightly those in need.
feet of a giant
that have tred fast in still water.
Shoulders of might
kinked with balls of human suffering.
Tears of the desert
dried up and hot to feel coming.
Spine of detail
scars marks lineality and poor self care promote.
a Heart of gold
below all crusted armor beating
99 times a minute at a still-state.
above all
a God of love and care
of whom i've never felt was always,
truly there.
(Until now)