A Piece of My Soul

July 11, 2015 - Poetry

A piece of my soul trickles out in words;
A piece of my heart-glowing images
Rolls out steadily to eyes and tongues.
Are these, my hopes, only strange mirages?

Not just a thought, not just a weary wish,
But a portion of essence fall, draining
From inside out to divine consciousness.
Desire of will on Another raining.

Not to compel, not to hurt, push or drive,
These storied wants call outward to be heard
By, for and through all who are alive.
Is such rash, full egotism absurd?

A piece of my mind, not unkind dribbles
Like pudding on a paper plate, waiting
For a child to choose the thought and nibble.
By hearing, by thinking, that child changes.

Be good; be kind; find peace; give love; rewind
The awkward moments that led your soft ear
To this gentle page’s useless, baseless lines.
Answers to deep mysteries wait elsewhere.

The stifled voice that calls incessantly
Seeks change but lacks potency to create
Better; it whispers warmly, fervently.
The hearers do not listen; they berate.

In an hour will these lines matter?
Can one human voice begin to alter
The threads of humanity’s set pattern?


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