Soul Search

By

Bill Cottringer

I am not

A great writer,

A smart teacher,

Or a capable leader.

Just a wandering soul

Trying desperately

To find a mysterious me

And who that might be?

My mind wants its thoughts,

My heart just its love;

But what is my soul after?

Nothing I know or expect.

Despite a busy life

Cleverly hidden in strife,

My soul works its magic

And finally sees it’s self.

These daring few moments

Are the other, unknown me;

Helping me to slowly see

Where I really need to be.

When such a search

Has come to its end;

Something odd happens—

The soul will hide again.

Each time we hide,

We get closer and closer

To where we’ve been;

It’s the search we’re in.