Speaking Soul

These days I buy time, not things.

The soul holds greater importance to me

than any cheap trinkets

that ultimately end up

in the garbage

after just a few years of use.

Soul is immortal, everyone knows that ,

although few are ready to do anything with it.

They dress nicely, adding charm with perfumes.

It's important, but beneath the surface,

there are rotten roots.

They peek out at us in disbelief.

For what they see is not what it means,

blurred by the image reflecting disease.

One can heal scars, forget the words,

they land at the bottom of a trunk, no less.

When no one looks for them, they will reappear ,

then dig in again

in the most wounded parts.

No time to put balsam on them.

Whatever we do now, it all matters,

it’s like riding a black horse in a harsh winter.

No one can see the reasons, only results.

They matter, of course,

but what matters the most?

Inner balance, some sort

of acceptance and moving on

toward bigger things

to which we will say, “thank you,” in a few years,

when we finally win this incredible marathon with ourselves.

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Thank you for reading!