Slightly Off Center
Soul
The soul of man must be yearning to die
Just think
To be contained
Held captive
For one minute
For a hundred years
To be waiting deep inside
Then to come screaming out
Freedom
Like a spring bud
Opening
On the old maple tree
The butterfly
From the cocoon
Like the boy man
From the mother’s womb
How powerful this thing called
Soul
It commands the will
Of man
It’s revolutionary
It’s bold
To have soul
One must be crippled inside
Because
We refuse to believe
That dead means died
Once someone is laid to rest
We must assume
One gave their best
Or just what was left
No more
No less
There are no faraway kingdoms
In the clouds
In a place called afterland
No mother goose
No boogie man
Life seems strange enough
Not to go on still
After one’s last breath
So it’s death
To what we know
All that had meaning during one’s life
Death to all the worry and strife
But wait a minute
Along came this thing called
Soul
So the story is told
This was the day death
Was put on hold
Forever and eve is the goal
Just think
To be contained
Held captive
For one minute
For a hundred years
To be waiting deep inside
Then to come screaming
Out to freedom
Like a newborn
Child
©© Philip J. Rappa
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