Soul

The day you are born
Is the last day you’re free.
That is, at least, for the body scorned
With the routine drudgery
That is wake-eat-work-sleep,
Repeat and rinse. Rinse and repeat.
Unspared the heart that tries to keep
The symmetry and style of every beat,
A drummer in the midst of a battle
Without a reason or a cause.
Equally engaged is the mind on the prattle
And mettle and whittle and spittle of dross
And loss that gnaws and claws, and goes.
I seem to have left my soul somewhere, out there.
I ask people if they saw it. Nobody knows.
I bet it’s swimming in Madagascar,
Or climbing the white Alpine giants,
Or maybe it’s in Kenya, skydiving
In a black coat and a suave tie and in blue pants,
Without a care, freely flying, soaring, hoping.
My body and my mind and my heart, you see
Are stuck in the world, but Oh, my soul, my soul is free.

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13 Comments

  1. Reads like it could be a song? (:

    Reply
  2. jian5

     /  February 23, 2010

    Haha, let’s make it into one?

    Reply
  3. meeyamia

     /  February 28, 2010

    Seems like the trend is for souls to fly. I guess it was your soul who hugged mine in The Rant (my post). Looks like our souls are hanging out at around the same place 🙂

    Reply

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    For people who love to think.

    Jian Carlo R. Narag, MD

    2005-2017

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