I must confess I never understood

Quite how a crooked poem stands without rhyme.

My mind which sings in straight lines seldom could

Condone with ease intangible designs.

Despite how structure halts an earthquake’s lust,

(A sure foundation weathers storms, it’s true,)

I’ve learned in softer stuff to place my trust.

Where reason fails, love’s gentle hands renew.

How long do heartbeats echo after death?

I’ve heard you tell from largeness of the soul.

Sound bounces freely where rooms have more depth,

So deeper still are those whom we extol.

As hopeless as I am, (It seems my rules I cannot bend,)

Please know there’s more to living than what logic comprehends.