The soul is the universe’s ageless sound,
ever searching out for the musical part
some time ago, we used to call the heart,
testing and trying to plunk and so find out
whether it’s ready—live enough—to hear now
what the tone entails or implies and go to twine
into oneness’ radiance what, on hearing, it learned,
thus, bringing it all back like a gently minted verse
in rising to converge on the divine that gives a fanning
breath to what Beauty true illuminates—deep in us—
as her honest kin and kith—filling up the harmony.
The soul is the universe’s ageless sound—and if one
appears to imply with its ending, apparent cut, both loss
and love—the other plumbs the good one carries on inside.
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