And so it goes - The Monday Morning Memo

In every heart there is a room, a sanctuary safe and strongTo heal the wounds from lovers past, until a new one comes along.

I spoke to you in cautious tones, you answered me with no pretenseAnd still I feel I said too much, my silence is my self defense.

And every time I’ve held a rose, it seems I only felt the thornsAnd so it goes, and so it goes, and so will you, soon, I suppose.

But if my silence made you leave, then that would be my worst mistakeSo I will share this room with you, and you can have this heart to break.

And this is why my eyes are closed, It’s just as well for all I’ve seen,And so it goes, and so it goes, and you’re the only one who knows.

So I would choose to be with you, that’s if the choice were mine to make,But you can make decisions, too, and you can have this heart to break.

And so it goes, and so it goes, and you’re the only one who knows.

“Every book is an island that exists only in the mind of its writer, and the hope of every writer is that you will visit their island and be glad you did. But in The Faraway Nearby, her book about how we make our lives out of stories, and how we are connected by empathy, narrative and imagination, Rebecca Solnit says,

‘The object we call a book is not the real book, but its potential, like a musical score or seed. It exists fully only in the act of being read. And its real home is inside the head of the reader, where the symphony resounds, the seed germinates. A book is a heart that only beats in the chest of another.’

I think of books as islands, but Rebecca Solnit thinks of them as sheet music, or as seeds. I followed that trail of thought until I realized that she and I had simply discovered different metaphors to describe how books are literary portals of escape into alternate realities.”

- Roy H. Williams, Monday Morning Memo for Oct 12, 2020

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