Bleed My Heart Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

Bleed my heart into a feathered quill,
into the ink of a weeping pen,
into poppy fields or a cranesbill,
into the vein of a hundred men.

Bleed my heart into a crimson dress,
into bright wings of cardinal flight,
into praying lips of an abbess,
or a red sky over seas at night.

Bleed my heart into a setting sun,
into the burst of blanket flowers,
into walls of a crowning canyon
where I can drop from its watchtowers.

Bleed my heart into rivers of time,
into the ghosts of different days,
into a peace so sweet and sublime
that it will unfold its brilliant rays.

Bleed my heart that I might bleed no more.
Bleed me in roots of poetic verse,
into the aft of the great before
before the launch of the universe.

Bleed my heart into unchartered stars,
into the solstice of summer scene,
into the soil of embattled scars,
into garrisons of evergreen.

Bleed my heart into the great divine.
Bleed me last into the sleeping sod,
into the spirit of sweetest wine
upon the lips of my Father God.