Do hearts pump love as well as blood?
And what of heads – supposed, by those
who pose dichotomies, are only they consigned
to think? I think that in some secret nexus, head
and heart contrive to bring us to another brink:
to be so linked, that to imagine one as different
from the other makes the axis in me shrink.
Today the hive of bees that breeds a better
metaphor for me than Mind and Heart at war
with one another seems communally more
accurate a model of the way our psychic
elements appease:
corralling all their “bees”
to aid the
widest vision soul can animate. Honey
is their
money, nourishment their currency!
Let's surmise that that is how to feed,
and show
how much we prize, the queen – who privately
awaits us one by
one to come in to inseminate
her with our
dreams. Let's imagine loving is
at one with
thinking – that the collaborative
ploys in us are what keep joy from sinking.
ploys in us are what keep joy from sinking.
.
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