This Poem was Submitted By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2002-05-26 17:53:21 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Foul Rag-And-Bone Shop

"I must lie down where all the ladders start,  In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart."                         William Butler Yeats To know the heart is the hardest part but in the end, what matters most. We look outward for meaning and reasons. Better to turn inward to our spirit, that inner space, that throbbing, pulsing place which signifies our repository of love and belief. Who cares if you dine with kings, wear fine pinkie rings, cleanse your palate between courses? Who cares if you pump with Trump, lease palatial space, and own  a string of race horses? We seek the final answer and feel uneasy with less. Living with restless qualms urges us to persist in our quest: to ask and test. The way we search for life's quiddity can impede its discovery because again, we extend outside our soul for quick, quantum solutions. We ever must explore, a means of learning more about our inner self, tearing down the outer wall. To know the heart is the hardest part of all.

Copyright © May 2002 Mell W. Morris

Additional Notes:
These are the final lines from "The Circus Animals' Desertion" written two years before Yeats' death. In it, he examines his body of work and says the importance of life lies not in riches, "players and painted stage," but in all elements of the human experience, even the detritus of streets and alleys.


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