The Beating Heart

I am the heart that beats
Not hand; Nor foot
Or the physically
Of the pumping muscle in my chest

I am the culmination
Of all that I feel
Edging toward a constant state
Of Love; Bliss; Rapture; Contentment
Different names thou inately the same

I am the heart that beats
Choosing life in its entirety
Seeing beauty thou its face may be ugly
Understanding the purpose

I am the focused eye
That sees time for what it is
Far from a linear concept
But a home for our immortal souls
That are ageless and without time

Its journey measured
In moments, emotion, affairs of the heart
Bearing no hommage
To the tyranny of the clock
Or its seconds it tossed aside

Time is space
Merely a place where we are
Malleable to our desires
Or will to manifest

But in our haste to run
In the Human race
We cast our divining rods asunder
Embracing time as our captor

I am the heart that beats
Keeping time; no longer kept
Breathing Love, feeling truth
Unabashed as the nakedness of my soul
Beauty to behold
Treasure to see unfold
Like all creatures of form
Seeking unity, atonement, a home