This Soul of Mine

It was here

when my brain got here,

greeting me

when I became

a sentient human.

It soars with eagles,

sings daybreak epiphanies,

and moans low and sorrowful

in funerals.

Even when I didn’t believe,

it has always been here,

as invisible and necessary

as air.

Inside this Gentile body

my Jewish soul stirs,

as it always has

since before

the Buddha,

the Christ,

Abraham and Moses.

This soul is simultaneously

under the seas

and above the clouds,

speaking every

foreign tongue

perfectly.

Since my soul

is not my body,

it does not delight in pleasure

nor does it recoil in pain:

it cannot

be bribed with Heaven

or threatened with Hell.

I do not

have this soul,

but rather

this soul has me,

and if it belongs

to anyone,

it belongs

in The Embrace

so encompassing

and profound

that

thankfully,

I cannot tell

where this soul ends

and God begins.