T
T
T
TThe nature of my Soul is shapeless
And it is black, but can be white as well
It can fade like smoke or be stunningly bright
Always pulsing, nevertheless,
Permanently hiding out,
And coming back into sight.
The nature of my Soul can be a sunflower
It can be your smile, when you smile,
It can be a cold wind gust, for a while,
But remains unique in its power:
The golden sixty-first minute
of an entirely new hour.
The nature of my soul is ubiquitous,
It sees the good, it sees the bad,
It feels like a black hole
Slowly absorbing, in contraction
And waiting to expand
Into a burst of energy so strong and redeeming
So shockingly violent,
That six billion human beings,
Six billion wretched and blinded souls,
Would at once become silent.
(By Pedro Manuel and me)
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