Unhinged

My soul has no hinges -
It insists on flying.

It hands me no shame
as I lie in bed, crying.

It offers no judgement
as I writhe in pain,

And when I lash out in anger,
it doesn’t call me ‘insane’.

My soul’s not afraid
of the depths of my sorrow.

It nudges me softly,
whispers of tomorrow.

It looks toward me gently
and dances my dance.
It winks as me; thanks me
for giving it a chance
to play, to observe,
to be embodied and living,
to take part in this Love,
in this Sharing and Giving.

It stretches out a hand
that caresses me daily.

It takes all my despair,
and hints a soft ‘maybe’.

This soul pays no mind
to the cares of the world
Yet still, it sits with me
as I write my words.
Still, it helps my tears flow
when I weep, when I fall.
It envelopes me warmly,
holds me through it all.

Sometimes, I forget
the wisdom of this soul.

Sometimes I feel jaded
and lonely and cold.

Until I sense something flutter,
something move, something stir

And I know deep inside,
all around me,
That’s Her.

Image by Alex Shute via Unsplash