Everyone has a soul . . . a gift from God. We are born with it, and we cannot destroy it. We can, however, create barriers that limit contact with our own souls. Some people are more in touch with their soul because they take time to nourish it. Those who nourish the soul, who experience themselves as pure soul, often have a spiritual radiance . . . and they are happy: a good reason to meditate in the silence.
Birds for leaves, and leaves for birds.
The tawny yellow mulberry leaves
are always goldfinches tumbling
across the lawn like extreme elation.
The last of the maroon crabapple
ovates are song sparrows that tremble
all at once. And today, just when I
could not stand myself any longer,
a group of field sparrows, that were
actually field sparrows, flew up into
the bare branches of the hackberry
and I almost collapsed: leaves
reattaching themselves to the tree
like a strong spell for reversal. What
else did I expect? What good
is accuracy amidst the perpetual
scattering that unspools the world.