If my heart said baaa-
it would surely be a black sheep. Looking like a rolling dark cloud in diar need of sleep. Innocent in the same way guilty- it doesn't know any better of what it does. It's the animal nature that chooses how to feel and doesn't know how to change at the moment.
If my heart ran-
it would surely be a cheetah. Graceful and terrible in the same instant. There's no comparison- it will always be fastest and catch up with the mind but by that time it is already too late; it has caught its prey, a thought perhaps. It dwells on this, feeds on it; it won't let go something that was caught. But it can't know it didn't need to sprint. It's the instinct that drives it onward.
If my heart sang-
it would surely be a whooperwill. Said to be the loneliest sound in the world hands down. It calls for a mate, for now unanswered. Admired for its spirit. Usaully heard at night and not seen.
If my heart creaked-
it would surely be a staircase. Walked mercilessly upon, discarded, uncared for. The winding steps leading to places no one will most likely ever go. Either they don't care or just can't find their way. Used passage ways of all different looks bring you in and out of darkness. Doors along the hall opened, closed, attempted to be beaten in. Steps can lead you in circles, but they do not feel, it is not their conscious choice.
If my heart could see-
it would surely be an eye. Inner or outer, it wouldn't matter. Taking things in without opinion, no choice in exactly what its seeing.
If my heart howled-
it surely would be a wolf. Wise and wild and untamed always. It works with its brothers such as the mind and body to accomplish a goal; naturally to survive. Purity rings from its song to some say the moon, some say nothing at all, I say to itself; a reminder of escence.
If my heart hummed-
it would surely be a bee. Bringing comfort and care to all the flowers and plants needing it. Making honey sweet for the coloney, needed, part of a huge picture. Here sometimes an annoying buzz, unwanted, others a memory of better days and longed for. Limited in the air but recognized instantly.
If my heart sighed-
it would surely be regret. A constant reminder of what's always there. Memories to revisit, holding you to yourself. What you have to learn to live with. But mortal, as it will give out eventually.
If my heart had rhythm-
it would surely be a drum. Counting out the beat, timing an entricate dance. A thing that had the power to make feet move. Applauded, cheered, lively. Crowds would call an oncord, it would ablige at its own accord. Urged to continue its sound but knowing it must stop certainly. What keeps the rest of the band, the body, in time; holding the song together.
If my heart was see through-
it would surely be a window pane. Sometimes clean and honest, possibly dirty with lies. It's sight could be blocked by a curtain or blind meant to stop any onlookers. You would wonder what really is behind them, whether it was even there or worth looking at. Hopefully one person will figure out how to raise the curtain and love what is revealed. Don't judge a window by its shade, peer at the glass.
If my heart renewed-
it would surely be an empty room. Ready to be filled with whatever needs to be filled there. A place to relax, lay back and breathe. It will try to be their constantly, helping where it can, restoring what it can, a tool. And mysterious.
If my heart tightened-
it would surely be a belt. Holding up what was about to fall down. Constricting the lunges till they don't know their own sole purpose. Putting excitement or fear in the chest; feeling funny.
If my heart wept-
it would surely be a friend. Something I could relate to and offer assistance. A shoulder to cry on when you just need someone there for you. Whom embraced me like I needed to be and hung out. A person I couldn't forget or never got tired of and I always needed.
If my heart was a heart-
it would surely be dead. After all it's been put through and witnessed there is no possible earthly way to state I have just a heart. No. Living inside is much more than that- a black sheep, a staircase, cheetah, window pane, a friend, whooperwill, belt, an eye, room, bee, regret, a wolf, and a drum. I'm sure there are many things my heart was at a point, is going to be, or still is. There's no way to know about it. For now though, my heart can be a heart.