The heart goes places our minds fear to visit.
And I thought the mind was the bold one!
But, the heart, when the mind has retreated wounded,
Hopes and joys and loves.
A mind marked by disbelief snarls and whimpers.
And here I thought the mind was the strong one!
The mind is manly and orderly and not subject to the whims of the heart.
Yet it pouts and rages.
Hearts can be broken but minds are broken too.
My mind has made a mess of ordering the universe.
Heart, I give you myself. You, the pure one.
You, the king’s heir who sees his face.
What the mind mocks are the wild things
Subject to no rational system’s confinement.
Heart, rule my heart.
Mind, rest. I will not love the Lord with you.
Soul, sing the words my heart composes.
What the mind calls trite is true.