
This Ole Heart of Mine
It seems to have a mind of its own. It travels like the wind. It goes where it wants to go and whenever it wants to. It’s not as skeptical as I am. It keeps no score or record of past offenses. It makes for a crazy conversation between my heart and my mind. My mind has the stats plastered in flashing black bold letters too obvious to ignore. Connected to the score board is a loud speaker that repeatedly rehearses the offense and the score.
I kinda wonder what Rick James meant when he sang about being a sucker for Love. I see why they say, LOVE is blind. This Ole heart of mine has lost its sight. It can see the silhouettes but not the letters and details. It just follows the voices. It use to have a long list of expectations and standards. It didn’t require as much. My mind and my heart go to court from time to time. My mind is on the prosecution side and my heart is the defendant. Every argument that my mind makes is never met with any objection from the heart side. The heart simply say, “I know but I still choose to love.” It reminds me of an owner walking a dog on a leash. My mind is on one end of the leash being pulled along by my heart like a curious pup. My heart can never just take a walk down the simple sidewalk of life. It has to stop and sniff every bush, passing pup and person.
When the mind says, “Ain’t you had enough?” The heart says by action, “Evidently not!!” This Ole heart of mine!!
“She makes me skip a beat,” the heart says. My mind says, “You probably don’t need to be skipping heart beats this late in the game.”
I’m just glad this ole heart of mine still works. Its been through the ringer. It’s been dropped, submerged in water, broken, pulled apart, put back together with screws missing, taped up, and drug through mud but it still keeps ticking. It’s like the old tape recorder found in the back of the closet. You push the play button and to your surprise, this thing still works. The tape drags but you can still distinguish the sound.
This ole heart of mine. The hardware on its inside is a bit antiquated and they don’t sell the parts for it anymore. Maybe there’s a junkyard for hearts? Long walks and talks, meals at the dinner table, long hugs and sincere kisses seem to be the parts that fuel the old models like mine. The new hearts don’t require as much. They seems to require more than one partner, live out their lives publicly, and text every thing.
The old model has no business trying to run at the pace of the new models. Upgrading won’t work and today’s software will never be compatible with the old stuff.
I think I’ll ride it out with the one I have. These are simply my thoughts as I ponder this ole heart of mine.
Keep loving as long as you live.
#OldVersionWorksFineWIL
Nice writing Wilford, as always. Isn’t it amazing how the heart can go through all of that yet still beat for more? I love the references you make to your heart an inanimate objects.
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Thanks Coach!!!!!
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