I Feel An Urge Poem by Mark Heathcote

I feel an urge to crack open—once again
But I'm not sure I can bear the strain
… Whatsoever, anymore!

I'm not sure I can take another lover
I'm not sure I can recover
… Whatsoever, anymore!

But - yet there's an egret
Wanting to spread its wings azure, inside of me
And nest, again, once more for sure.

But - yet there's something in my heart
Tells me there's no rainbows end.
No pot of gold.

But I require a loyal, loving friend to hold
That won't or can't be, told
… Whatsoever, anymore
That our love grows, cold.

I require me just one lover, telling me there is, no
No fissure, can't be crossed, bridged, healed or closed.
Take my hand; we are all so near to the end.

Here-every-story truly begins afresh
Here-no-one asks to be, saved
From being crushed by talons or bleeding claws
But-just is a rehearsal instrument singing in bliss?

… Whatsoever, they're forever more
Like the cry the thunder in the sky
They too forget the reason all things must die
Be quenched dry, only to again cry.