Soul Resurrected

These words won’t touch your soul.

These
                  words
                                    can’t
                                                      touch
                                                                        your soul.

All words can do
is pile up enough kindling
to burn the house down,
beneath which you may discover
your buried soul.

Say what you want.
Do what you will.

You’ll find me traveling
down the road toward silence,
beside other soul pilgrims,
                  our grief growing lighter
with each step.

Now, go out in the rain.
Delight when the water’s fingers
tickle your outstretched hands.
Let your soul be resurrected
as you’re drawn nearer to Spirit.

---

This poem was written on December 2, 2025.