TO MEND A BROKEN HEART

Heartaches and confusion
lost in love’s illusion,
the fusion of pain and longing,
a deep burrow into a soul so burdened.

Learning that the end of loving liaisons
coincides with the death of that phase
of a life dedicated to an amorous fait accompli,
from your knees it looks insurmountable.

But, how to make the tables turn?
You learn that love never dies, it burns
smoldering internally for eternity,
a lingering and lurid ember aglow.

You come to know that every end begins
and every abandoned heart wins
another chance to dance unbridled, never idle;
always keeping lethargic feet in motion.

On the odd notion that love will never more
grace your open door; never soar to the heights
once aspired, and only be mired deep within,
choose to begin, find a common bond of which you’re fond

and reach out for the hand that helps and
heals heaped up hearts and sorry souls
tinkering with the broken and battered matter
until a distinct beat is discerned. It is then

you will have learned to love again.
So remain as a friend, open to the possibilities,
with the responsibilities to just repair;
a valued new direction for your heart waits there.

©  Walter J. Wojtanik

Poetic Asides Prompt # 394: Repair

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