When Soul Speaks Reason

Happy Thanksgiving.

A.B. Wisely
2 min readNov 24, 2022
Photo by Sara Shakeel

When dreams don’t break, they rather shatter,
Into a myriad of crystal rocks.
Take moment to examine their sparkling splatter,
And see what lesson in your soul this glitzy ruin sparks.

And then get up and try again, relentless,
No matter what life brings — not giving up.
Create a meaning on which your life centers,
Until this game arrives at a full stop.

And now I firmly stand — no longer avid seeker,
But, rather, humble liver of this life.
Each passing day my faith in miracles gets weaker,
Yet, sober groundedness, indelibly, becomes alive.

As there is no one draw, reality or answer,
But, rather, vast and infinite array of truths.
Whether you’re a wealthy banker or a struggling dancer,
You’ll learn your lessons, in your time, performing just a slightly different array of moves.

When agony of pain and ecstasy of pleasure merge into one being,
One integrated entity of life.
You will no longer guess, but, rather, begin seeing,
The struggle was all worth it down to every little strife.

I have arrived, yet only have just started —
No longer naïve kid with round starry eyes.
World used to have me at its beck and call, but, lately, I could not be bothered,
As now some elder part of me has, confidently, come to life.

There is a different kind of surrender,
The one that’s deeply rooted in the Earth.
Its price is innocence which I, reluctantly, to fire of divine extinction render,
It hurts like hell to no surprise as pain’s a known property of growth.

Gotten knocked down by life time and again I lay beneath and tremble,
This ruthless journey seems to have no end in sight — my aching mind is getting tired.
Although my life experience is, rather, is ample.
My wisdom still leaves way too much to be desired.

Oh precious you, deceiving jiffs of languid freedom,
Time and again alluring me away from truth.
Only to catch monotony’s obtrusive ribbon,
And vapid pointlessness of daily grind and nightly groove.

And when your soul, at last and finally, speaks reason,
And weary heart is too tired to seek.
Look inward to encounter remedy for every season,
As Spirit’s always strong even if body might be getting weak.

A.B. Wisely 2022 ©

--

--

A.B. Wisely

I've been called a strong woman more times than I care to admit. Not sure when, along the way, I became strong. Or a woman for that matter.