We are told to be mindful and still

to sit quiet, listen and just be.

But I do not feel alive until

the fire burns hot within me.

Heart, mind and body compose the self.

Fragmented the self cannot exist.

Banish the heart to the outside shelf

and the true self can never persist.

Of the self’s parts, the heart reigns supreme.

Her delicate visage belies her strength.

Her power, part of the gods’ greater scheme-

but for fear, we keep her at arm’s length.

Well, why be so unflappably cool?

Must our feelings be weighed and measured?

Are we so afraid to play the fool

that we deny the self the heart’s great pleasure?

Why not rage and laugh and cry?

Why not let the pulse of music beat at our hearts until tears fall from our eyes?

Why not gnash our teeth when we hear innocents’ cries?

Why not feel anger so deep we can only scream?

Why not laugh until tears flow in a stream?

It is not the mind’s duty to modulate the heart.

The tyrant mind deceives itself.

Feelings denied and disguised fester beneath the surface of the skin until we break

and the gods laugh.

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