Thursday, May 5, 2011

My wood soul

* my wood soul *
This wood soul I carry
Roughly hewn from a hardwood tree
Old and battered and stained
It is not light at all
And seems ancient beyond belief
Suffered grief ungladly
Rung with joyous tones
Now it is a lump unyielding
Reflective of life with which I am dealing
Has become an almost physical manifestation
Which I must lug about
Straining every sinew
To move this soul's unyielding weight
I am sure it does me damage
To have it with me always
Yet I am not allowed
To place it down and walk away
It is my only soul
From birth to death must carry
My light my weight my consciousness
All these things represents
This roughly hewn lump of wood
Both my present reflection and eventual fate.

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