The heart is a hunter searching
before the dead of winter has melted;
The Heart is a poet writting
about new born babies and mothers milk;
The Heart is a child’s laughter,
giggling it’s way to mothers precious fruit;
The heart is a new-born hunter,
searching for laughter and giggling
as winter delivers it’s bundled love
as small droplets of mom’s jubilant tears.
I wrote this poem in an attempt to write a metaphor that rolled into another metaphor and so on each time modifying the poem and building on the metaphor before it.