Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Jonah

Light calmly shining from the soul
(from outside consciousness?),
making the wounded whole.
Souls of the wounded dim as coal,
sheathed in wretchedness—
no light escapes from a black hole.
Walking through the world
that way—no balm in Gilead—
wounded, never whole.
To discover how the years roll
toward enlightened bliss,
take a walk outside the whale!
I’ll have to loose control,
join the other trillion lights,
cracked, wounded souls—
your soul, my soul, souls of all,
glowing in a fusion kiss—
light shining (calmly?) from the soul—
wounded made whole.