
membrane of the heart
Like a film between the night and day
where full formed lines arise from sleep
peeled from the dreamy mind, complete
The membrane of a woman’s heart
holds delicately her sweet love’s art.
Its tenderness you can’t repair
when careless words have caused a tear.
Now silence hangs between the two
like petal caught with morning dew.
But membranes like a veil so fine
turns chrysalis with passing time
Then emerges a vision fresh:
They two entwined in breath and hush.
t.w.c.
This poem was first written a few years ago. One early morning I awoke with the first four lines appearing in my conscious mind as if peeled from a membrane between the sleeping and waking world. My mind made a connection between that membrane and the delicate membrane of the heart’s most tender feelings. This half-asleep state is a magical place of creation. That moment left an indelible mark on my being.
The original poem, below, ends with a reprimand. It’s message steers far from the intention in the opening lines. It needed changing.
Let Love be Gentle
Your harshness drives her love away:
Like a film between the night and day
where full-formed words arise from sleep
peeled from the dreamy mind complete
The membrane of a woman’s heart
holds delicately her sweet love’s art
It’s tenderness you can’t repair
when careless words have caused a tear
So fairy tread on girl and child
Let love be gentle, words be mild.
Tears in relationships can always be repaired – where there’s a will and love to fuel it. Hearts harden when things go sour; but husks can serve a purpose. Reminding myself of that moment, that membrane between sleeping and waking, containing delicate words and feelings, I returned to the poem. I liked the change. No, let me be honest here: I loved it. Except the last line.
Now silence hangs between the two
like petal caught with morning dew
But membranes like a veil so fine
turn chrysalis with passing time
Then emerges a vision fresh:
They two are undulating in delicacy’s breast
I didn’t like ‘undulating.’ Nor ‘delicacy’s breast.’ I changed it to ‘they two entwined in breath and hush.’
Membrane of the heart
Like a film between the night and day
where full-formed words arise from sleep
peeled from the dreamy mind complete
The membrane of a woman’s heart
holds delicately her sweet love’s art
It’s tenderness you can’t repair
when careless words have caused a tear
Now silence hangs between the two
like petal caught with morning dew
But membranes like a veil so fine
turn chrysalis with passing time
Then emerges a vision fresh:
They two entwined in breath and hush
I’d love to hear what you think? Has the ending landed now? Or do you think it could still do with more thought?


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