When the Soul Was Born

When the Soul Was Born

A Poem by Beano


Hunters from the dark
dancers in neat bunches
consolidate together as shadow.
Waiting for first light, they wait
to see what they become.
Their hands work busily down
broad cavalcades of ochre;
flames glint on vigorous tools.
Maneuvering across, they move
with bright reverence
and their own deep purpose.
On the wide grassland
each thing gestures its appetite,
and its consequence.

© 2020 Beano


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Featured Review

Such thoughtful words, perhaps Destiny preparing a place for something meant to be? Is it the soul, is it the spirit, how do we see and understand what each is, how should be emotionally and appropriately recognised.

~ 'On the wide grassland + each thing gestures its appetite, = and its consequence.'

Posted 11 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Beano

11 Months Ago

Thank you for your reading and your thoughtful comments, Emma.



Reviews

When we started to become human, spirituality came along for the ride (for better or for worse is hard to tell). Your poem beautifully captures the beginning.

Posted 8 Months Ago


Such thoughtful words, perhaps Destiny preparing a place for something meant to be? Is it the soul, is it the spirit, how do we see and understand what each is, how should be emotionally and appropriately recognised.

~ 'On the wide grassland + each thing gestures its appetite, = and its consequence.'

Posted 11 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Beano

11 Months Ago

Thank you for your reading and your thoughtful comments, Emma.
I think souls are born separately from bodies...
and they probably do have a different purpose....
and the dancers move with such grace...a grace or physical presence can never find.
j.

Posted 11 Months Ago


Beano

11 Months Ago


Thank you Jacob, your comments are poems within themselves. I hope you're well.

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Added on October 10, 2020
Last Updated on October 21, 2020

Author

Beano
Beano

London, United Kingdom



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