Soul Food Poem by Midnight Clarity

what music, what rich flavours
turn something into soul?
What is a soul?
The spark prometheus bore,
the einstein insight that shifted
time and space?
is it our weakness?
perhaps the strength
that lets a mother push
just one more time
for tiny lungs to breathe
perhaps the wordless slap
across shoulder that bespeaks
a fathers' pride,
the spark, the spark
that let's us choose
the words we speak,
the votes we make,
the hatreds or the loves
we choose to bear.
the soul is not the province
of the priests, the church;
is not designed to bear
the weight of guilt
but is meant to soar
with songs
all tinged with rainbows
to dance like treetops freely tossed
untrammeled in the air.
the spark, the spark
that shines behind our eyes
and let's us stop and think
before we make our mark
and mar the canvas with a lie.
The soul is just the core
of who we are.