Rest On Me

Do you know who your soul really is?

Is it a person? A thought? An idea? Or just simply you?

Find your soul and share with me what it tells you.

Want to know what my soul is?

It's running. My soul's been running and running since I've been in touch with it. It's a part of me that I can never hold down. It smiles at me, toying with me and yet always reminding me that...

...that it's free.

Fields, mountains, plains, hills, oceans, ponds, lakes, sand, trees, grass, bushes, fire, sky and darkness. Into and beyond these places has my soul run through them, and it still runs. Seeing the world in shades and flashes of grey through peoples eyes and listening to the words unspoken, it wraps them always taking a side of them I can never see, then returning to me with a grin, giving it to me to figure out. Then swiftly, before I can ask why, it flutters away, soaring, climbing, once again spinning the world on it's little finger. Where have you been, soul? Why run from me when we are one? But when I need you most, you come without a thought, holding me tight, reminding me that it's still there, always where I never imagined it would be...

Within me.

It sits on lonely, high platforms, staring at the world, watching, praying, hoping. What for?

Peace.

So close yet so far. And how much it hurts when my soul comes running back to me; sometimes sad, sometimes happy, sometimes cheeky and playful; but now, torn in two, shredded, crushed, bleeding, begging, screaming in torture. It grabs me by the veins of my heart and pleads for mercy, asking me to stop it's horrendous pain. But I can't. Writhing on the ground, moaning for all of this to stop, never have I seen my soul in such plight. What can I do but watch, as who I am is torn in pieces, unable to shut off the sounds of misery as more wounds are yet again reopened. Its eyes meet mine and all I can do is stare into dark golden eyes, the love in it telling me it knows that I can't help it no more than I can help myself. It tells me it loves me beyond a godly comprehension despite the pain, and sometimes, so rarely, I get a glimpse of a smile, somehow saying...

...It'll be alright.

Please. Take me away.