Arctic Flower Poem by Mark Heathcote

Your virtue and honesty are an arctic flower to me.
It's something I didn't realise existed anymore.
In my abstinence, I froze, looking up from the floor.

Knocked out by your chloroform, reawakened
to find my heart beating as usual,
but lighter than it had ever beaten before.

Maybe I was misinformed, but I thought this was love.
I thought -maybe I could reform and find forgiveness.
Maybe for a second, I believed I could be happy in this life.

Have some dialogue with our Lord.
And cage a free-thinking, spirited angel, a dove.
But all this is like reaching for the stars above.

Stars that can never reach each other
that can never be together.
No matter how far or fast pure light does travel
Still, I remain lost and dark inside.
Something that love cannot hold or grapple with.