my red soul
leaves me unwhole
it is not the real me
oh can’t you see
just incomplete

i yearn for my focus
to rediscover my locus
oh my heartfelt plea
to merge again with thee
true soul takes a seat

of what atoms is this essence
this haunting sense of presence
perhaps pebbled like scree
or one branch of the tree
whose limbs have not feet

is its being mutually exclusive
individually apart from the inclusive
what is the me part of we
that dreams itself to be
the chaff or kernel of one wheat

subtle strings coentangled
net of things newly wrangled
each longs to be free
yet a part of the sea
holographically replete

how can a prismatic past
coherently coalesce and last
by squinting perhaps to see
the gargantuan and the wee
holoexistentially complete

About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
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