Wild Heart Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Wild heart

Read poem on the heart
called it: "Wild country"
gave reason to sit, think.

Then question:
"What is it? "

We know it if opened
house of pump and blood
with windows, many pipes.

But care, love and blames?
Is it so? Is it not?

It sure is strange
not for me
I won't change.

Heart beats fast
is gyro with throbs and fire
pumps faster if there is desire
care and want.

Its eyes are telescope but blind
let it be as unseen
leave it as mystery.