My friend Lindsey posted the following poem on her blog late last week:
i carry your heart with me i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
I’ve had it stuck in my head for the last few days; tossing and turning like it’s unable to find a place to settle down and rest. It may be Valentine’s Day, or the “Love Never Fails” disciple now this weekend, or the fact that for the first time in a long time dating prospects don’t seem totally off the radar, or my relentlessly optimistic personality, but something in that poem connects with me. That concept of loving so much that the lines of separation blur is attractive. Of course, it could just be that I’m one of the obscure members of the population who enjoys E.E. Cummings.