In Wet Cement

In Wet Cement

(“I will put inside them a new way of thinking. I will take out the stubborn heart of stone from their bodies, and I will give them an obedient heart of flesh.” Ezekiel 11:19)

I’m not sure how it happened, so long ago,
perhaps when I was walking, perhaps fighting the undertow,
but it dropped out of my pocket, it fell out of my chest,
I swear this is how it happened,
I dropped my heart in wet cement.

The sun baked it clearly, cured the sidewalk well,
and for a while I kept on walking, for a few steps no one could tell
that, hardening beneath the pavement, beating slowly to death,
I swear I didn’t realize,
I dropped my heart in wet cement.

Can you walk the foothills, heart out of mind;
can you swim the sparkling rivers with your heart left far behind?
Can you answer the questions, can you offer your best,
when,
I swear this is how it happened,
I dropped my heart in wet cement.

No one walked on me, only over and around,
perhaps their own hearts lie buried deep and glued to the ground.
Did they drop out of their pockets, fall out of their chests?
I swear this is how it happened,
when
I dropped my heart in wet cement,

I kept on singing, praying and spelling
the name of god and his son in proper terms and failing
to hear the absent heartbeat; the cavity in my chest.
I swear this is when it happened
to the heart I dropped in wet cement.

I was undone, unsung, prayed and faded as an
old west calico dress.
I was kneeling, unfeeling, ached and lithic as the
old glacial boulders at rest.
I could not move, though I moved often,
I was not free, though I sang like a strong man.
I was retreating, unseated, frayed and begging as an
old warrior with little left.

But I was sung like morning, I was recited like dew,
I forgot the old, the dusty, the hobbled days
when, new as creation, I welcomed the invasion
of a gentler hand than the sand and grit
that held me so long when
I dropped my heart in wet cement.