did you happen to see my soul?
some mindful meditation on that window we all love so much
When your eyes held mine the other day, did you happen to see my soul? Did you peek through the windows, or cast the blinds aside? Did it speak to you? Did it unfold itself like a butterflies wings; and could you help yourself, from letting it lilt onto your fingertips, or dance along your palm?
I haven’t heard from my intuition in a few days, so I’d like to know if it said anything to you. Any news is good news, even if it’s secondhand. Are you sure you didn’t hear anything, that there were no missed calls, no messages, no unwritten letters from god on the open tabletop of my soul’s house? Are you quite sure?
I lied, I did. I apologise. I heard this beast of spirit speak, I felt it in my blood. It told me not to run, and I did anyway. Not to cower, and yet here I am writing to you from that quiet corner where my head meets my heart. I am curious, still, if you happen to have any news from the front of that war between mind and spirit. If there are no casualties besides those whose scars have long since marked me, I think we’ll be alright.
When I looked at yours, it was sweet music. It was all I could do, not to tear my ears away from such devastating beauty. But like I told you then, and I’m telling you now, devastation is beauty. In its way, in that whisper. I hope you’re listening closely, the next time you decide to turn around look me in the eye.
xo
TC
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