My delicate heart made of flesh and blood
Beating over time that the tides define
How simple each stroke arrives with a thud
A boat rocks at anchor on mooring line

Spirits in life should we love make us dance
What we crave in crest is not coherence
Seek no softness in your cold abundance
Sharing only good grace in appearance

For weak becomes our will and cold our stones
While we age growing up instead of down
A beating heart so caged inside my bones
Like a head above water will not drown

Rise gentle over cresting waves my sun
What wonders where my beating heart begun