My Soul sits absorbed
Deep within my being
It brings motivation and meaning
To what becomes seen
Everything I am or do
Materializes from that place
Yet my soul remains unseen
In its internal space
The beauty
The perfection
Contained inside
The purity
The grace
Forced to hide
Behind a mask of language
And a cloak of beliefs
My Soul attempts to express
Yet it is taken by a thief
It bends and distorts
Who it wants me to be
It twists and denies
Who is the real me
Through no fault of another
This crime takes place
It is the imperfect patterns
Of our human race
Words, language
And systems of faith
The vehicles of expression
Of this internal space
Are taken as the truth
Instead of this great seed
That was planted and grows
Through some greater deed
Look deep into my eyes
And there you will see
The purity of God
Concealed in me
Now I am tired
And I must sleep
Or through my own laziness
I will cause others to weep
For I too am fooled
By the patterns of being
That cause me to think
What’s seen is what’s seeing