The
soul’s a sort of prankster.
It
walks with you ostensibly to ease your angst or
lend
a lift to your penumbral views
but
really it’s got other news
that
hasn’t much to do with who you think is you.
It
doesn’t give a Frankish sou
for
your lugubrious emotions –
or
even your exuberant devotions
should
they happen to arrive.
The
point for it is to become alive
beyond
all reckoning.
It needs you for that job. That’s why it’s beckoning..
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