An Angel of the Spirits came to him as an alien
His sharp confidence painted the town red
With only one look, to the wolves
He tossed them all instantly, anything speaking nothing
The pack mentality fed on the fear of the mundane
The leader scrapped his pride and stood up
“I’ve seen remarkable, free-Spirited aliens,”
He said with a brightly blinding radiance
“The Sun shines periodically,”
He boldly continued,
“In the eyes of others.
I see you,
And you see me,
But please let’s don’t let this make us too anxious.
We must all paint beautiful scenery,
Of each Life and of every other,

But, most importantly,
Of our inner selves.”
The leader went on and on, so gracefully
“The Sun dances periodically,
Around in our minds while
The Ego and the Spirit converse,
As the grass plays the melody of the blues,
And the winds push the blades like music notes.
When we feel we have no soul to fill,”
The leader said,
“We must find the soul
In other things and other people
To recognize our own
And the rest of the World’s long-lost soul
By reflecting the lost soul in all,
There lies a new creation,” the leader proclaimed,
As he pointed out a metaphorical mirror
Inside the lost soul’s desolation
A sight that seemed once foreign and alien
He followed the Light at the end of the tunnel
In search for the location of all lost Spirits

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem