If we cannot revere the soul

That flutters in the wind

One may never see themselves

In essence or within

Yet within may come and go

As lovers pass one by

And delve into the utter depths

Of castles in the sky

And from the sky one looks below

To a caper yet to play

Where poets and philosophers

Have so much more to say

They write and they will theorise

About the life they’re in

And wonder if they’ll live beyond

And shed more than their skin

And if they do – well – what then

A new life born to thrive

Or same as old (to make the most)

One thinks (and feels) alive

2 thoughts on “thrive

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