I am seated in a coffee shop waiting on a friend. The Good People of Substack sent out an email explaining a new feature - posting from the app. So, here I am on the app. Forgive this little diversion.
Have this poem for your trouble.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
BY E. E. CUMMINGS
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)
There are so many hearts in my heart. They keep me busy and interfere with my time alone as they keep arriving. I know that they are also in so many other hearts. For many of them I wish they understood how many hearts they are in. They think they are un-loved.
My wife was Catholic, Irish Catholic…non practicing. I told her I’d convert but she would have none of it. Oh well. I like Christianity