Between the fierce independence of the goddess of the hunt
And the pure undying love of the resurrector
And somewhere in there is the descent to the underworld...
I know more now.
My heart is elsewhere,
My mind struggling to roam.
Maybe they need not be yoked together,
But at least I must be aware
Of their different paths and aspirations.
My heart may tug on me like a child's small fingers,
But I may be thankful my mind will always be there
To say "no" to the errant child.
Sometimes, though, the child knows best.
Best that they work together.