You hope to be my stethoscope,
so swear to listen carefully
and hear beyond the cardiac:

the storming stress and pressuring
exerted in the daily crush
of rushing past my lesser self

the canyons under rising beats
where grief and sorrow wind for miles
carved by rivers decades deep

erupting words restrained before
when molten meanings welled within
until they scattered through the sky

parades of cadence through my veins
arranging thoughts in vital verse
alive with wild metaphors

and rhythms of the universe
born of the fire out of time
igniting light from nothingness.

Pulsations of a yearning soul.
Do you detect the echoing?
Its depth and breadth and energies?

What might you make of all that jazz,
the drums and silences between?
You feel you know my heart by now?