Saint Eule (10/30/1955 / Shamokin, Pa)
Calligraphy Of The Soul
A measure of sanity to put the square peg in the square hole,
or the unique stroke of a being the calligraphy of the soul.
So often we try to fit in, but how can we ever begin;
a soul has no form or carbon print.
The soul evolves through time each released to a
destiny sometimes chaste or eloquent.
A soul can be captured for a time like a butterfly in a net,
admired then released into its timeless travel.
A soul can be led astray like a tainted stroke a smudge
created by a moments hesitation to unravel.
Each character unique some with a blend of shadow
and light to form the person God wants us to be.
We resist wanting to hold the pen and make our own
impression and it is ok -all part of the art of calligraphy.
We practice holiness and obedience but each fine line
is subject to interpretation as it should be.
The ink gently dipped as to not obtain more than we can bear,
The symbolic expression of you and me.
Not by a round peg in a round hole, can you measure the soul.
the soul unaccountable for ink spilled, only for destiny fulfilled.
A soul has no boundaries or limits - a precious gift,
Not endless energy as science accords, but a poem written in eternal words.
Created in joy and in strife, the calligraphy of our souls written
forever in the book of life.
Comments about this poem (Calligraphy Of The Soul by Saint Eule )
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