The soul is a bit ethereal,
a dirigible rather than a submersible;
nothing too fancy, nope no cogs or springs,
nothing to wind up,
nothing to crank,
nothing to spark or light,
it’s all one woven part of the whole,
like a thin and yet still durable canvas.
It is locked away inside the body, folded tightly or else just below the surface,
it all depends on the moment,
sometimes it is manifest above the head,
sometimes behind the knees,
sometimes the soul is prominent in the exhale of a breath,
how we say so much with the release of something necessary because our soul is shouting is something beyond me.
Perhaps that is why it is so ethereal,
because it is nearly one with the wind and in that sense it is both contained inside of us
and released around us in numerous ways.
how beautiful that we have so little control.
Little Spud In The Big Apple 