What could I do but write a poem?
I was having dizzy spells
Life moves briskly and
I forget to drink water
Do you do that?
I went to a heart doctor
Jogged with wires
Held still for cameras
Your heart is fine she said
And yet so small I thought
Be active she said
Stay hydrated
Jung was interested in middle age
Time of great potential
Change and chaos
The mature self taking stock
All that doesn’t fit anymore
New things to take on
For the final leg of the journey
I have lived in my head, insulated
A gatekeeper of current events
Chronicling from my lucky perch
Cataclysms that destroy lives
Defining as I age
My tiny space
I want to grow my little heart
The room is small but there is a door
To go forth with my younger selves
The ones less jaded and worn
Remembering as a young man
How to be kind
This is my heart in a cluttered field of white
Pulsing red amid a flurry of petals
— David M Hancock
