The care of souls

In the midst of plenty
           the pain of poverty
scarcity and need
           a culture averse
to the care of souls
           blind to the beauty
of silence
           of poetry

The soul is in her eyes
           the bright gleam
in her lips and the words
           that tumble from them
in her hands and the magic
           that they work
how they soothe
           how they create
how they wave away
           my cares

the soul beneath
           her cotton dress
the fact not the fiction
           of her womanhood
the beingness of it
           as her limbs guide her
from place to place
           scattering love
as she comes and goes
           wherever

the soul is in her body
           that welcomes me
into her embrace
           that holds me and is
a place where I
           take comfort away
from the woes of
           the world

the soul is in her breath
           that I feel warm
against my cheek
           the rise and fall
of her breast
           that carries her
from day to night
           and back : the allness
that her soul
           embodies

John Lyons