(i carry it in my heart)

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)

This is why I love art. After hearing this poem for the first time years and years ago, murmuring it under my breath at work, still gives me the same chills. This poem, to me, has grown with me. Stretch with my understanding of love and life. It is more beautiful to me know than it was before.
 
It's alive.
 
And it's always changing and never changing and still keeping the stars apart.
 
All that to say, i carry your heart.

Real Simple.

My mind is always in seven too many places at once. This means I am a world reknown starter of things. I am always starting things that I am not finishing. Thoughts, stories, crafts, glasses of water, letters, journals, the list goes on.

I wish I were a completer. I don't think it's some defaulted gene, I think it's a lack of discipline. But, maybe for now we can just pretend it's not because I get oh-so-very distracted.

I asked God for community here. I am certainly not getting it the way I though, but slowly, I see it forming around me. It is requiring a part of me that I don't give naturally. This isn't bad. It is a little hard, though.

Nothing in my life is real simple.

But, then again, everything is.

Something Missing

I know exactly what's missing from my life right now.

I just need to start praying for it.

I will write something more substantial later. But, here's this song I like.