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.