Heart Like Water: A Poetry Collection

“Changing Tides”

The tides in my heart are changing.

The moon must be shifting phases again for I feel my soul, like gravity, being pulled in directions I never thought I’d turn to.

The fluidity of human nature flows incessantly through my veins.

Humans are only constant in their changing and my own stripes change like the color of the sea.

I’m as shifting as the weather, and my heart as intense.

I follow the tornado’s path, entirely unpredictable, but destruction is not what’s left in my wake.

I reorder the chaos the storms leave behind.

I may bring rain, but it’s living water, and the life I lead gives way to growth.

It’s a glorious thing to be free from what’s expected.

Storms might have left cracks in the pavement of my heart, but oh, what wonder are the flowers growing through.

“Reflection”

I watch the light reflect on the lake and I start to wonder about the reflection my own life displays.

Do I look like You?

Do I love like You?

I feel like the water;

the fluidity and changing color mirror the metamorphosis in my own mind: ever changing, but ever strong.

Sure, I have my somber days where the skies are dark & my water’s grey, but find me when the sun is shining and my beautiful blue will leave you breathless.

I’ll confess I can be shallow with some, but there is a depth to me that others have the privilege to explore.

All this,

But I still wonder.

Can they see You in me?

Or is it just the monsters within that line their sight?

I want to reflect you like this lake reflects the sun.

Let them see You when they look inside.

As the sound carries on this water, let Your voice carry over me.

Be the wind that moves me, and I will not float in vain.

“Heavy”

My soul feels like running

when the blood pools in my hands,

when the anchor’s been thrown,

or the ship hits the land.

Maybe my heart’s made of osmium,

or my brain is instead—

something to explain why I don’t float like the rest.

They follow the currents,

from shore to shore,

like driftwood passing by me

as I stay a decade more.

Ever-moving, never still—

they seldom stay for long,

in contrast to my constant

wondering what I’m doing wrong.

But in the waiting I have learned,

what’s wrong might not be me;

the difference is they lack the weight

that keeps my soul steady.

They float because they’re hollow,

but I am made of stone.

While every tide drags them behind,

I won’t go with the flow.

I will still be standing

when the storms bring me their waves.

No tragic flaw within me;

my “heavy” is my strength.

Special thanks to Reyvin for sharing her writing with The Talon. Follow her on instagram: @thatssoreyvin