The Prison of the Heart
Where the heart goes, there goes the head.
In reality, this does not always follow.
Where the heart goes, there goes the imagination.
A person can be in the deepest depression,
their heart hurt by a cruel love,
and their imagination can put them in the darkest place.
No light, no vision, no sound, without ever feeling the world around them.
Yet, like the bars of their prison,
the key to setting them free is to be loved.
It may take time, patience, and constancy,
but the pardon will eventually come.
The heart begins to feel refreshed in a new way.
The imagination and soul are deluged by the torrent of love,
and their world of darkness opens upon the Spring day.
I have been to that dark place where love is the jailer,
where I could no longer feel anything at all.
That darkness was not dispelled easily,
but only by the patient love that opened the door to my Spring day.
It is here I would find the reality of my imagination.
It is here I would want to be, wrapped in that love,
instead of drinking coffee in the cafes of Berlin.
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