THE SOUL LIVES ON


The empty steps plot in my head,
like the points of a dark void graph.
They lead nowhere and anywhere,
the destinations do not matter,
are not to grasp.

The endless thoughts, the polarized emotions,
the infinity of the inevitable reality
that must now be filtered and sorted,
packaged and wrapped,
to be neatly compartmentalized
in the deep, scarred remnants
of a mind and heart.

You hold on to your soul,
your spirit sags with woe.
The aches and pains, the endless suffering,
the mindless wandering of a wounded heart;
A tattered and torn,
stomped, beaten, and battered,
piece of self-esteem and confidence,
struggles to stay afloat
in the dark and murky waters of emotion.

The balance of good and evil,
right and wrong, crystal and cloudy,
dense and transparent, anger and pain,
justice and injustice,
perfection and imperfection,
all flush intermittently,
out of your control,
through the remnants
of your body, mind, and spirit.

Your soul is the only part
that feels alive and well,
and life-sustaining.
The soul lives on,
no matter what the body, mind, and spirit suffer.
Those three endure
the inconsistencies of life, death,
knowing, and unknowing,
learning and sorting
the crumbs of sustenance that fall
from the giant platter of life
that we all so gluttonously chase,
salivating in hopes of
attaining a seat in front of, one day.

Our soul,
fed by the nourishing strength of God,
and nurturing of
the collective consciousness of infinite souls,
lives on in it’s lean beauty;
the result of a selective, yet savory appetite,
plenty of exercises in virtuous controls and endeavors,
and a supple splendor of encouragement.

The physical body and mind
are obviously weakened
by the chards of life’s sharp edges,
stabbing and jabbing,
bleeding it until almost dry
of the blood of life worth living;
like a giant leech, feeding endlessly
off the carcass left by the challenges of life,
of which some we have
control or choice, and others
are the consequences of those choices,
or a hand of fate dealt so deceitfully clever.

But despite the weakness and the suffering,
you feel the spark of God
deep within you,
resonating beyond
the limited physical and mental strifes,
from an unquenchable soul,
that endlessly pulls you on,
to pursue and experience more,
voluntarily or involuntarily.

The soul lives on for another day, another month or year.
The soul drives on with zest and vigor,
to pull the dead weight
until it creates enough friction
to restore the fires of life
that kindle the flame of survival.

The soul lives on, as the champion,
the never-ending “smiley face”,
the warm and loving, gentle embrace,
the softly whispered encouragement,
of a day now gone,
and efforts spent.

The soul lives on to renew another,
different mind and body,
with different challenges;
new dreams, new companions,
energized efforts.
The soul survives, no matter what,
to be reclaimed by God’s own hand,
when we no longer have the strength to stand.

And like a bird with mended wing,
He releases, so gently, so subtlety,
renewed, replenished, refreshed, and respendored,
revitalized and cleansed,
from His strong, yet gentle palm, so warm,
the soul
to freely fly again.