Treasure Island

Jim Norausky


Hey Soul, How did you get here?


Backstroking in a pool of comparative luxury,

Gazing at the silvery morning half-moon,

Swept by wispy white clouds against a clear blue sky.

Shaded by trees birthed by the landscaper's plan.

While gently lapping, hugged by crystal water.

Wondering about my lifelong questions.

How was my soul assigned to me?

Is there a galactic bull-pen with ten billion souls,

Waiting to join someone formed by the creator's hand?

Jimmie's soul, you're up, at the moment of love's great performance.

You could have been with a wealthy noble,

Or destined to one struggling for survival.

Well soul, my eternal mate, you made the B-team.

Is it so bad? It's only for a few heartbeats.

Submitted: Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Edited: Wednesday, June 25, 2008

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Comments about this poem (Hey Soul, How did you get here? by Jim Norausky )

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  • Patti Masterman (1/26/2009 10:30:00 AM)

    I LOVE, love this! It's my eternal question too; why me, why here, why now?
    Love to think about this stuff. Wonderful writing. Curiosity is a beautiful thing. (Report) Reply

  • Greenwolfe 1962 (7/8/2008 5:17:00 PM)

    I suppose these are the thoughts that everyone has at one time or other. It's
    worth a poem.

    GW62 (Report) Reply

  • Kevin Wells (7/3/2008 2:28:00 PM)

    Anyone who displays a talent for writing and thinking deeply - as you obviously do - could never be in a 'B' team.
    Nice thoughts, Jim. (Report) Reply

Read all 6 comments »

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