My heart is walking barefoot in the grass,
Quite careful not to tread on shards of glass.

It fibrillates and skips, it balks and beats,
It sees Divinity on city streets.

My heart keeps vigil by the coffee-pot:
It looks before and after, pines for naught.

My heart's a supplicant, tearfully kneeling.
It flinches at each unfamiliar feeling.