Amber Heart
By: Meena Rose
Somehow, despite the popularity of the selfie,
Of which I am most guilty, I have no trace
Of that amber heart from Mecca and how
It journeyed to me – a gift from my grandmother
Over my mother’s objections that I was too young
To be trusted with such – those words would prove true
Twenty years later.
Two years have passed since then and still,
I wonder about this amber heart’s journey;
I am certain that it has claimed another
Who was in need of a steadier heart
And a daily reminder of love.
Still.
I can’t stop kicking myself over this loss;
No, I really can’t despite all my claims;
I have no photo’s of it
Just skin memories of the warmth
As I caressed it with my fingers;
That welcome weight that joyfully rested;
Amber heart protecting my own.