Your Soul

Your soul...
Amber that once dripped fresh as sap from an old tree,
A handful of earth, dry and soft, miles under the ground.
A soul full of stories.
An old soul, one that sings softly but never dimly, light bright yet not blinding...
Your soul...
Your soul is an old library, filled with books abandoned and new but all are welcome to stay.
A bowl of fake fruit, pretty to look at, lovely to admire, but deceiving depending on who tries to bite.
A book of fairy tales, but who's to say what stories are fiction?
Your soul...
Full of joy, full of energy, full of laughter.
Arrogance has no place in your heart, for such a heart could only know patience.
A soul with plenty room to grow and a plethora of time on its side.
Plenty to grow, and plenty to learn.
Just like the ocean learns its first wave, coming crashing back down, spewing water onto the sand.
Everything must learn.
You do so with a grin playing on your lips and humor in your eyes...
Eyes full of childlike wonder...
And a growing soul.