My soul in everybody's hands

[dejanristic1983]

Hi dear friends. I want to share my soul with you as a bagpiper gives his soul to their own bagpipes blowing it into them through the air. In my case, it is a song I have written while studying the English language and literature. Here follows a link: http://philosopher-at-large.blogspot.com/2012/06/guest-poet.html

[earthcalling]

Beautiful! ... and the sharing too...

David

[dejanristic1983]

Thanks for taking one part of my soul. Take more if you wish. It is mine, but I am yours!

[dejanristic1983]

Never

Please never try
Whatever was born to walk
To make fly.
Never find your happiness
In the sadness of others
And, For God’s sake, do not make her dried up eyes cry.
Do not leave your beloved soul
When the snow starts to fall,
Do not be selfish so as to look upon yourself,
So that the door of her feelings are open to all.
Do not leave her alone in an unfrequented places
When the lantern of your hearts is not lit,
Not because she is afraid of darkness
But because her thoughts will stumble upon each other,
And unexpectedly fall into a bottomless pit.
Never keep your feelings for yourself
For she is the first and the last to wake you up from an unpleasant dream
And your everlasting wheel of life
Born to turn around you, love and understand,
Never try to separate from her
When she is overcome by tears and pains,
Stay with her and be patient
And to all the troubles
that surround her, put an end.

[dejanristic1983]

The woman's soul
by Dejan Ristic

It was on that night
That I was unable to see.
But, there were other eyes,
My guides, that told it to me.

Although I was born
Not to see the light,
My soul, my eternal guide,
Taught me what was black, and what was white.

Many things attract our attention,
Many are known to us,
But, what was more than all of them,
Said to me thus:

The night was full of Heavenly fragrance,
The breeze was warm, and soft and mild,
On the grass sat a young woman,
And, at her feet sat a ten-year old child.

The stillness took its own place,
The breeze stopped, and caused everything to mute,
Suddenly, did the child become motionless,
And did the woman begin to play the flute.

It lasted for some time,
Then the boy raised his little, tender fingertips;
The woman went on playing a sweet tune,
And the little boy touched her fragrant, slightly wet lips.

Then he asked:

'Why are you so dear to me,
Why do I love you so much,
Why am I sometimes strange to myself,
What has just caused me your lips to touch?'

The woman dried the flute and said:

'The Lord, our God knows why,
For his will is that you be blind;
He took your sight from you,
But he made you able my soul to find.'

The boy asked again:

'May I give you what is in my hands,
May I give you my inflatable toy,
May I kindly ask you to give your breath to it for me,
May your mouth fill it with fragrant air full of your soul and Heavenly joy?

The woman did as she had been asked,
Her breath made the beach ball bigger, and her soul made it warm;
The boy felt it all with his little hands,
And his Heavenly joys, like bees in their hive, began to swarm.

When her breath had stopped hissing,
And, when she closed the lip-moistened valve of the ball,
The child stooped and kissed the moisture,
That moisture that God once said to be the woman's soul.