Heart of Flesh

Hard-shelled like hard shellack, a hardened short 

Shackle so loosely but firmly surrounding 

This my heart of stone. If I should bemoan 

I don’t feel love, if I should mourn the lack of 

Union with my God, certainly I would 

Appeal to this lead weight, it’s several inches 

Thick, it encapsulates it; it’s wooden-like 

But a deadweight - a weight that suffocates. 

Wouldn’t it be better if it would just fall?

Peel off by layer, or better yet break; 

A barrier I would have severely 

Fashioned, clearly now, with sins of vices: 

Haughtiness and soaring pride; pushing my 

Way, ever my will at every turn! 

Ah the weight of it dear Lady of Montserrat.

I’m trapped, snatch me from this encampment of 

Concupiscence; this encasement of 

Irascibility: a double scourge of 

Kryptonite!  If it takes a whole life, 

From night to day, I’ll wait for this shield to 

Fall; to fall for good and finally reveal,

Dear Lady of Montserrat, 

A real soft beating, loving heart of flesh.

Gary Edward Geraci