Too often the heart can do what the brain can't and puts the grey matter to sleep---it has no limits and is free as the wind, it is spaceless and encircles the whole universe. It is a mystery beyond the brain's finiteness.
THE HEART OR THE BRAIN?
In my youth I held the brain to be superior to all the seat of all wisdom and the university dons said: 'the call
of genius lies in grey matter- nowhere else--you students should know lest you academically falter'.
I wore my degree on my sleeve I could talk my way through it only brought grief.
I found through the years and tears reasoning and logic was dry as leaves in decay I learnt to laugh and smile, I smelled the flowers I talked to kids, I tried to write poetry and in every way
my childish innocence and wonder returned and I was transformed and born again I began to feel and understand life's mysteries its wondrous joys and its every deep pain
and how profound was peace and contentment (who ever dared say ' Knowledge is the end- the door to bliss?' Trust not lofty philosophy it's a cynic, a joy-destroyer and not a friend).
My heart is with me every moment and with it I converse and only in it I place all my trust my brain is arrogant, without warmth and obtrusive garrulous and obtrusive---say goodbye to it I must.
* prompted by a short conversation with Jamie , a fellow-writer in HP today # John Keats, in a letter wrote: I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the truth of imagination. He is my favourite English romantic poet