The Stray

In the heart there is a stray,
Who runs and barks and growls,
Who looks abroad for a place to stay,
But often finds the hoot of owls.
For the door is shut, and the lock is fast,
Like a captain's heart shut up in a cage,
Lest the heart become lost as sea at the last,
As the hurricane blows by in a rage!
But still lonely hearts must try,
As a stray to find a home,
They search for a place that's dry,
Simply looking for a bone.
For while the heart is unbound, not held back,
By the leash of the mind and of thought,
It will go forwawrd, will not feel slack,
And will do things that it probably ought not. 
Thus is the man who yearns for God,
And the woman who burns for him too,
Thus through the thought of rational do I plod,
And race through thoughts of idealist true.

               The Stray, (c) Luke Bennette, June 2012