I clung to that spark of hope,
nurturing it into a small flame that
chased some of the shadows in my heart
away.
Is there room in my heart for you to follow your heart?
Aphrodite: Pfft. That's not the point. Follow your heart.
Percy: But… I don't know where it's going. My heart, I mean.
My feet will tread soft as a deer in the forest. My mind will be clear as water from the sacred well. My heart will be strong as a great oak. My spirit will spread an eagle's wings, and fly forth.
Can I go forward when my heart is here?
Up in this air you breathed easily, drawing in a vital assurance and lightness of heart. In the highlands you woke up in the morning and thought: Here I am, where I ought to be.
We are desert leagues apart;
Time is misty ages now
Since the warmth of heart to heart
Chased the shadows from my brow.
You wine sack, with a dog's eyes, with a deer's heart.
Then Love, I beg, when next thou takest thy bow,
Thy angry shafts, and dost heart-chasing go,
Pass rascal deer, strike me the largest doe.
The golden Hours on angel wings
Flew o'er me and my Dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.