A Basketful of Hearts

At first
I was afraid of you.
I wondered why
you trusted me
to bear this load
of such strange fruit.

Some of it
was cut too deep
bruised too dark;
so soft it bled
on every side
if touched at all—

so I did not touch.

Some of it
was far too heavy
loaded down
by too much fear
too many tears cried
over years—

so I did not cry.

Some of it
was covered
by a blanket
of sun too bright
to reveal anything
precious underneath—

so I left it covered.

so I let it rest in peace.

I searched
and searched
but could not find
the saving fruit
the healing kind—

but slowly
I began to learn
that I could touch
and I could cry
or throw back covers
to the sky
that breathing in
and breathing out
was fruit enough
to make one shout.

And then one day
you spoke again:

“Dig deeper, man,
go deeper still
down in the dark there
if you will
down in the dark there
where it’s still.”

So I kept digging
in those hearts
until my hands were tired and sore
and I thought that I could dig no more.

But I kept on digging
in the dark
until my hands had reached the last
and touching it I was aghast.

“Hold it up,” I heard you say,
“and tell me what you found today.”

And from below
my voice rang out:
“I found the heart
I thought I’d lost
beneath these others
in the dark!

It lives, it hums
it dances, too.
It beats in rhythm
next to you.
It rests in shadow
sunshine, too.
It climbs the ladder
up to you.
It lifts, it cries

it touches, too,
and best of all,
says, “I love you.”

David Orr, who resides with his family in Lynchburg, VA, received his master’s degree in theological studies in May 2011 from Washington Theological Union. He wrote this poem for CPE residency graduation at Georgetown University Hospital in Washington, DC. He writes that he was grateful “for being able to hold hearts for a year, and have mine transformed by the experience.”