Wandering soul

I am a wandering soul

that’s not a soul

according to

modern wisdom,

just a very complex

machine they say,

for there is no more

than a great combination

that struts on this

temporary stage of life

and finds its

troubled way to dusty death.


Well, that may be

and who am I

to argue against

the tide of thought

of a scientific

and rational turn;

but still I say

in the truth that

I feel and am

ready to pronounce,

that I am a wandering soul

hewn from eternity’s awful wake.