“What the soul is:” a poem about seeking, finding, knowing, and being known

What the soul is

One day I set out
to find my soul,
to hold it in my hands
and gently touch it
to the soft hollow
of my cheek.

I opened every book
in my mind, shaking the pages
and searching every trace
of long-forgotten ideas.

I looked through each glass orb
of memory, straining to find
some mark my soul had left,
a bent twig on a trail
or a footprint on the path.

Even the seemingly precious
beliefs about God and Spirit
I had grasped for so long
sifted through my fingers
like fine, dry sand,
leaving no permanent piece
or artifact I could see
and claim as my own.

After thousands of years
I sat in the shadow
of my favorite mountain
and closed my eyes,
tired from searching and
yielding to the sunrise.

I rested my body
on the earth, which waits
patiently for us to return
to ourselves.

As the warmth of the new light
kissed my face,
I heard footsteps beside me.

When I slowly opened my eyes
I saw you sitting there,
tired from your own journey,
your face marked by the years.

We did not speak in that moment
because there were no words
that could touch the truth
we were now drinking. 

As I looked closer, I found
my soul within your heart,
dripping with light
and singing the song
the angels taught us
in those first fresh days.

My soul was within you
this whole time,
and yours within me.

We sat there for ages
looking at each other
and recognizing ourselves,
feeling peace at last.

The soul is knowing
that my life and your life
are one life.

--Stuart Higginbotham