Monday, January 18, 2016

Heart Pickles

Whole hearts have short shelf lives.

It doesn’t take long for them to break.
So here’s a recipe.
For when the heart is shattered 
Into a million little pieces
That 
Cannot be put back the same way.
Ever. Again.
A recipe
For when it has gone sour
From all that has happened 
Or been done.

Take a jar
And throw the sour pieces in.
Along with the salt
That people have rubbed into your wounds.
And the turmeric
Of their coloured judgements, perceptions and opinions.
And the red chilly sting of their harsh words and actions.
Be careful 
To not let the water of your eyes 
Corrupt this concoction. 
Moisture is dangerous.
The oil of people’s expectations,
On the other hand,
Only helps.
Mix it all together with your bare hands.
Feel the raw texture
Of everything that has happened
Or been done.

The next part is important.
Weave a soft muslin cloth
From your compassion towards yourself.
Seal the jar with it
To keep the mist from your eyes away.
Like I said,
Moisture is dangerous.
Put the lid on
And let it sit for a while.

It’s ready
When you cannot tell one element from another.
The pieces of your heart
Are softer, a little less sour.
A little more of everything else.

The next time life seems bland,
Take a clean, dry spoon
And serve yourself
From this jar of delicious pickled wisdom 
Gained
From all that has happened 
Or been done.

Savour a piece of your heart 
Broken, softer but preserved for posterity.
Because 
Whole hearts have short shelf lives anyway.