The Pumping Heart
Pump in. Pump out. Pump in. Pump out.
Valves and muscles in my fist-sized heart.
Inherited from my mother and father, either/or.
Mine had a valve wearing out a few years back.
So I went to the heart repair shop for a new one.
"This little piggy went to market.." Mine to me.
I wonder? Could I become a Muslim? Us two.
It's hard to visualize 100,000 ins and outs a day.
If I live to be 90, that's 100K x 90 x 365+. Wow!
The only comparison is a small % of the national debt!
Some 2,000 gallons of life-giving blood being moved!
I couldn't lift that many every day, but my heart does.
And piggy and I control the flow, faster and slower.
Her only real rest, is when my body crawls in bed.
Even then, she and the other valves just relax some.
The symbolic heart does even more for each of us.
It combines with our physical heart measuring joy.
It figuratively flies wherever our thoughts want to go.
It grieves in our moments of deep sadness and loss.
It warms to touching moments, and chills to fears.
While our physical heart keeps right on pumping.
Pump in. Pump out. Pump in. Pump out.
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