The Angel Of The Soul Poem by Patti Masterman

I wonder does the soul
move as we move, like a ghostly apparition
inside the arc of our motion,
averaged out in the spaces
between the winds of breathing
our body in space spins round us.

Or does the soul
have a mind of its own;
leaving for a days journey alone,
note pinned to our psyche- don't worry, I'll be back
just in time for all your dreams tonight-
as huge wings fan our face, with unimaginable breezes
on its departing.

Do we dance with our soul, when deep in sleep
pirouetting around one another in perfect time,
soul flying us to heavenly ports
we never suspected were there before,
the skies echoing with our tinkling laughter,
and each leading or following
according to the moments need?

The soul finally hijacking all that was precious
of each one of us, at the last instant-
before the train wreck finally catches up.