Soul Is
The soul is something that is always trying to leave,
like a caged bird longing for the sky.
To keep it in my heart
I must spread the wings of life
and let the sun rise within me every day
and fly from the skeleton beach over the whitecaps
drinking wind, and let my body love what it loves
and remember what I forget
when my nights are filled by your absence:
like a caged bird longing for the sky.
To keep it in my heart
I must spread the wings of life
and let the sun rise within me every day
and fly from the skeleton beach over the whitecaps
drinking wind, and let my body love what it loves
and remember what I forget
when my nights are filled by your absence:
this world is my playground, not my prison.
“Soul Is” was
inspired by a lovely, triste young woman in one of my workshops who said, when
I asked people to say what the word “soul” means to them, “Soul is something
that is always trying to leave.” That ache of longing for a home somewhere else
moved all of us.
This poem is in the collection Here, Everything Is Dreaming: Poems and Stories by Robert Moss. Published by Excelsior Editions/State University of New York Press.
Photo by Louise Docker
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