Wandering Soul Poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain

Wandering Soul

Rating: 5.0


Places that take the wandering soul,
Maybe be far off distances,
Or close range in places,
To recollect what recalls in memories,
Some they go where unknown,
To peoples and places learning their cultures,
To settle and begin again,

Going to places of different culture,
Of those that brings them back,
Where once settled,
In their soul life of contents,
For what unsettles,
A persons life in contents,
Leads the soul searching,
For restoration,
Of their life contents,
To return to their,
True self again,

Living and learning,
While the soul stays unsettled,
Because of peoples places and their cultures,
Bringing understanding of different souls,
Each others and their shared contents,
As for the souls left to wonder,
Wondering and pondering,
And finding out all about those,
That strip the souls of peoples,

Trying to configured why,
They come in and take,
Of those that were settled,
In their happy collections,
Of memories and pictures,
They take from their past memories,
And staging a reinactment,
So,
To distort the truth with fake faces,
Distorting it to make it different in happening,
Of the persons memory in collections,

Giving it to the soul less of non beliefs to take,
When they distroyed their own true path of life,
And needing to take anothers to be safe and shielded,
They then use the life,
Of those that are set up to be taken,
Along with,
Their happy collections of life that they choose,

Where those that have happy lifes in existance,
Having acceptance of their paths,
Whether straight, narrow or rocky,
Is the content soul's chosen paths,
That is of their choice in life,
With,
Their true life chosen paths,
That guides them aright,
In content living day and night,

A wandering soul though now left,
Meets with the unknowns,
Some of them too,
Wandering souls,
That gathers in meetings,
At places in some wide open spaces,
At dawn by seas front,
Or atop of hills,
And beneath valleys of such high hill places,
The wandering souls,
Knows of others and do gather,
And discuss,

For the eye to eye contact,
Shows through and each sees,
One of the same kind,
That does have soul,
Even,
Making Phyche Movers,
Out of the,
Wandering Souls,
So they too,
Can collect back for the others,
That are left the lost souls,
From those that took it all,
Leaving the lost souls to be found and brought back,

Tis,
Something,
That those that could not be taken,
That once was a happy soul,
That then became,
The Wandering Soul,
Is life hard deals,
From the happenings,
Of the 19th century,

People,
Misplaced,
Or,
Mislead,
Stolen,
Abducted,
Yet,
Would not be taken,
Casted out,
Exploted there of,
Used,
Then told sorry,
Mistaken of identity,
After all have done wrongs to,

Or,
Left there behind,
Disregarded,
Left to lick their own wounds,
No report sent in,
With other to replace them in name and person,
While the others known at the time to them,
Gone by,
Or becoming of,
The lost souls,
That were taken.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 26 April 2020

That is of their choice in life, With, Their true life chosen paths, That guides them aright, In content living day and night, the wounds, past experiences remain in us......very fine poem dear poetess. tony

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Malaya Roses 16 June 2010

we can't change the past but each wound will left a scar behind. sometimes 'sorry' is not enough to undone what had been said and done. excellent poem with pain of history and mystery.

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