Are our hearts ever truly our own? I thought of this reading La Belle's poem about not falling in love...
Fire...deep within the soul... Burning for something deeper than that we know. Ashes...gray dust in a bowl.. Probably where we will eventually go. So when can the heart be free? Will Love ever show a kinder face? Is there truly anyone out there for me? Or am I just another spirit out of place? Who does not feel this wonder, Lost in the darkness of lesser realms, Ripe for the futile plunder, Of emotional pirate's helms. Can you promise me forever? I think not! Can I hope for whatever? Perhaps it's all I've got! And so I continue on, Starry eyed child of fifty-two, Looking for fun, And hoping to make it through. Fire...deep within my soul... Still knows how to burn... Still smolders like coal... Waiting for the glass to turn...
This speaks a universal truth, Jim; and I can very much relate to what you express here. Sadly, I do not think many find this elusive "love" to which most of us are addicted. We think we've found it only to lose it again. Someone else sees too much in us and... ...well, you know what I mean. Thank you for sharing, my friend. Love and best wishes to you,
James this is a beautiful and intense poem. I think our hearts usually rule our minds in matters of love, I honestly don't know which way is better. Love is so esoterical it's hard to cage it in with bars of the mind. Lovely work.
Slaves who fled their masters were classified as insane. This term came from Dr. Samuel Cartwright who was an apologist for slavery in the pre-Civil War era. This release of my Anoka Time file is a look at slavery in the modern context of Minnesota N
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