Seek Not My Heart

Oh gentle winds 'neath moonlit skies,
Do you not hear my heartfelt cries?

Below the branches, here about,
Do you not sense my fear and doubt?
Side glistening rivers, sparkling streams,
Do you not hear my woeful screams?

Upon the meadows, touched with dew,
Do you not see my hearts askew?
Beneath the thousand twinkling stars,
Do you not feel my jagged scars?

Seek not my mournful heart, kind breeze,
For you'll not find it 'mongst these trees.

It's scattered 'cross the moonlit skies,
Accompanied by heartfelt sighs.
It's drifting o'er the gentle rain,
A symbol of my silent pain.

It's buried 'neath the meadow fair,
Conjoined with all the sorrow there.
It's lost among the stars this night,
Too far to ease my quiet fright.

No gentle winds, seek not my heart,
For simply ... it has torn apart.

                                                   /Kit McCallum