Hibiscus Flowers Poem by Mark Heathcote

What's revealed inside a beating heart?
That projects the light of the universe
What is unveiled that isn't first shown?
That transfixes the courtship of a bee.
That dances infinitely more precious?
Then those ceaseless waves on the sea
Or infinite rings of an aging oak tree.
What nectar is prized without prison bars?

Opening its mouth into hibiscus flowers
What's beating beyond this transitory hour?
More splendid than a cocooned butterfly,
Drying out its aeronautical wings and-
Resting on a cloudless mountain peak
Like a prismatic crystal snowflake melting.
What could it be, interweaves these minutes?
Unfolding all-time and space in you-and-me.

Isn't it all just a ballet of love unwinding?
Mystically there are countless magic tricks
To be found unscrambling like red maple leaves
In the fall. Magically there is an essence
That is transmitted at the very moment
Your lips conform to kiss another's lips,
Who's held your breath in slow-release?
Such is the precursor of your soul's origins.

So what's exposed inside a beating heart?
Laid completely bare is a fraction of self
That at its best is totally naked and alone
But never more fulfilled or at home.
What is unveiled is a sense of belonging
That has never before discovered any meaning
And has now got all the answers and more
Without losing a sense of one's identity.