Song of My Soul
Wave after waves whip back,
flip over and over, and
crash out on the shore,
battered, beaten, and sore--
unable to take any more.
Gradually, gingerly wash away
the cares of yesterday,
and bathe your feet, your mind, your soul
in the cool possibility of tomorrow.
Lapping away sorrow and pain,
allowing you to being again,
savoring the new--
if only for a few brief moments--
that only YOU get to feel,
get to taste, get to know
the wet wearing down the old,
while soaking up the
yet-to-be.
Can't you see the point of it all
right now?
There!
Out there,
glistening in the shimmering,
off in the distance as the
swirling ripples bubble and foam,
draping your toes
in the ebb and flows
of everyday woes,
drift off with the seaweed.
Roaming the currents,
unhurried, slowed by
bits of broken bottles
tangled, intertwined
amidst frayed rope
swaying to and fro,
calling, begging sweetly
to the soft sand
to splay,frolic and bask
in the warmth that comes
with the rising of the sun.
what's left of the night
done now,
languidly dripping away
into the liquid life of
day.
Don't go.
Stay awhile, let yourself
wake up, stretch out,
and heal,
take a deep, salty breath,
smell that sunshine all around you
splash across your skin
and scoop up a seashell or two--
it's up to you--
as you take a stroll
down the shore with the gulls.
Revel in the tide and its lulls.
Feeling its pull in your lungs,
luring elusive song out
with every beat of your heart.
Your inner you starts to mouth
the words to the song
you never knew you had within.
The song of your soul now begins,
dances on the wind,
flutters down your windpipe,
tickles, gets familiar,
takes a shape,
hums a tune.
What's it sound like?
Do you know it?
Do you like it?
Can you even hear it?
Shhhh...
Listen.
Hear.
Hearken to how you truly sound.
To Him,
to the World,
and, most of all, to YOU.
"He who has ears, let them hear...."
Here, where no one else can hear
or interfere in your reverie.
Standing at the edge of the sea,
feel the ocean echo back in reply.
Softly singing back to me.
Quiet.
Free.
Lift up your face to the sky
with your voice.
And sing.
Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez
January 4, 2011
flip over and over, and
crash out on the shore,
battered, beaten, and sore--
unable to take any more.
Gradually, gingerly wash away
the cares of yesterday,
and bathe your feet, your mind, your soul
in the cool possibility of tomorrow.
Lapping away sorrow and pain,
allowing you to being again,
savoring the new--
if only for a few brief moments--
that only YOU get to feel,
get to taste, get to know
the wet wearing down the old,
while soaking up the
yet-to-be.
Can't you see the point of it all
right now?
There!
Out there,
glistening in the shimmering,
off in the distance as the
swirling ripples bubble and foam,
draping your toes
in the ebb and flows
of everyday woes,
drift off with the seaweed.
Roaming the currents,
unhurried, slowed by
bits of broken bottles
tangled, intertwined
amidst frayed rope
swaying to and fro,
calling, begging sweetly
to the soft sand
to splay,frolic and bask
in the warmth that comes
with the rising of the sun.
what's left of the night
done now,
languidly dripping away
into the liquid life of
day.
Don't go.
Stay awhile, let yourself
wake up, stretch out,
and heal,
take a deep, salty breath,
smell that sunshine all around you
splash across your skin
and scoop up a seashell or two--
it's up to you--
as you take a stroll
down the shore with the gulls.
Revel in the tide and its lulls.
Feeling its pull in your lungs,
luring elusive song out
with every beat of your heart.
Your inner you starts to mouth
the words to the song
you never knew you had within.
The song of your soul now begins,
dances on the wind,
flutters down your windpipe,
tickles, gets familiar,
takes a shape,
hums a tune.
What's it sound like?
Do you know it?
Do you like it?
Can you even hear it?
Shhhh...
Listen.
Hear.
Hearken to how you truly sound.
To Him,
to the World,
and, most of all, to YOU.
"He who has ears, let them hear...."
Here, where no one else can hear
or interfere in your reverie.
Standing at the edge of the sea,
feel the ocean echo back in reply.
Softly singing back to me.
Quiet.
Free.
Lift up your face to the sky
with your voice.
And sing.
Written by Eliza Jane Farley Gomez
January 4, 2011
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OK, y'all have been kind enough to "hear me out"& n stuff, so let me know whatcha think, if I've rattled yer cage, voiced a shared thought or concern, or if you're gonna attain Enlightenment upon reading these DEEP THOUGHTS, or if ya think I'm just plumb WACKO--but please be decent in your expression of your sentiments, there's no need to sling mud, unless we're in POTTERY CLASS or at the BEACH! Thanks for reading n stuff...Laters!