Soaring soul

At one time the soul was whole and could soar into the heavens and one could see a masterpiece of colors and travel far distances

Through lush jungles and forest and over high mountain tops and down through the valleys

On such travels one would see people love and people lose

Their tears and their cheers from the jubilation of light

As did the soaring soul

Slowly he lost too much

The world bittered him to a patch of disdain for all mankind

The world became too loud and scary

So many suffering souls without reprieve

Wilting away in the corners and alley ways

Where the light dare not go

Jaded by love lost and always love lost with a packet full of misadventures wrapped in her legs and arms clutching at you

Her moans of adoration in love making

The feeling of her hand on your chest

All lost to time and fate of the world that takes

And in such taking of the world the soaring soul lost its wings

Lost were the heavens to such immeasureable heights

The heavens and its angels gone separated by invisible light

Slowly the soaring soul walked the earth in long last duration

Taking in the dark until it became full on it

Now the soul no longer walks or moves much anywhere or enters into battles of love and joy

The darkness covers the corners and the uncertainty of that turn keeps the soul moving

No direction leads the soul or ambition of wanderlust

The cynicism takes hold tight and the soul disapates into a a plane of nonexistent nihilistic living

So now we search for the soul only to make the same mistakes the soaring soul made

Where once the soul was whole and could soar into the heavens with Gods angels

We do so much with our hands

We do so much with our hands

We hold thoughts and concepts like intangible dice

Roll the right sides to give us the desired result

Like the love we all seek and when I hold her hand

They are smooth and I am calm because her hands can hold my heavy thoughts

Like the pursuit of freedom that we write words about

In our pastoral settings that illuminate vast fields and jungles filled with trees we find freedom this way and get lost in the height and weight of it all

We hold life in our hands

Children so precious

In our hands

So fragile and they chose my hands to support them

I look at my hands and the calluses, the scars, the marks on them, and they tell my story without a word

I look at her hands and I can see what she lost and what she did with her hands

How they were once soft and sweet and now they are heavy like mine are now

I know I can hold them and keep her safe if she’d let me

I know the things we can do in each other’s hands and the worlds we would trek

The rocks and freedom would tumble as we would climb great mountain ranges

We would find the spirits and passions would climb if she’d let me

We could ascend together in each other’s hands

If she’d let me