My soul

is second helpings

of homemade apple pie,

double crust,

dust with sugar in the raw.

It’s cotton-white clouds

in a hurricane’s eye;

chaos,

sipping peace

through paper straws.

It’s

the summer sun sinking,

grieving loss

of golden hours;

reflections of the day

like moon in eve’ —

soaking up the light,

in darkness,

soular power;

dusky dreams

drawing the warmth

with stardust seas.

Stir my soul and mix me up

I’m made of many things

writing on sidewalks

hidden beliefs in my eye

cups of life to savor

Stir my soul and mix me up

made of endings, closed to others

heartbeats lined up in a row

fire without need of matches

sensual breath on naked skin

Stir my soul and mix me up

parts of scars that don’t heal

twigs cut free from my beginning

fragrance of earth, molded into clay

frayed strings of multi-colored thoughts

Stir my soul and mix me up

composed of music inside my spine

slamming doors and exits from life

flashing lights warning keep away

reflections that lie, bent masks of truth

Stir my soul and mix me up

unused time waiting to be filled

blank slate waiting for emotion

patched pieces and worn thread

exposing life holding me together

Stir my soul and mix me up

fill my thirsty soul and rampant dreams

for I’m made in the shape of a bowl

waiting to be filled with uplifting words

soaking my skin, setting past free.

blue waterfalls,

wispy clouds,

hidden thorns,

misty eyes,

a thousand tries,

golden light,

silver moons,

empty space,

enclosed truths,

diamond tears,

rainbow pride,

crimson fire,

violet suns,

swirling currents,

broken threads,

brittle ice,

and waterfalls.

My soul is made of light

beaming colors

within a bubble

but dark marks

hold it back

obsidian scrapes

fighting a war

and in the end

the light may struggle

even fade

but the colors will always remain

My soul is not bitter sweet

It is as rich as they come

Thick and always overwhelmed

Too much for all, not some

My soul is a treasure to behold

It shines light throughout the dark

Wielding my own outstanding affection

Demanding me to abide by my heart

My soul is beautiful in all its ways

Staying steady amongst turbulent seas

So pure despite all scars inflicted

It is the greatest part of me

My soul is made of glitter and gold

(dust and gray)

smiles and happiness

(tears and pain)

My soul is made of honesty, not lies

(both at all the wrong times)

trust and forgiveness

(fear, anger, resentment)

My soul is hopeful and full

(My soul is empty)

(Is it really there?)

In my hands,

I hold a ball of compressed light.

My soul.

It's filled with dried flowers,

potpourri, wafting out.

Delicatly burning embers,

glittery, glistening stars.

It contains my world,

my heart.

blood surging around the outskirts,

keeping me alive,

keeping me warm.

It radiates light,

sunbeams dancing through the gaps in my fingers,

escaping with sudden burst as I try to contain it.

I can't.

My soul leaks out in everything I do.

Everything I am.

Raining down on this world,

like a well-needed storm,

but I am anything but gray.

I'm filled with the colours of the rainbow.

My soul covered in a sun-catcher,

love pouring out in waves,

I ebb and I flow,

sometimes I don't even know,

the powers I hold

inside.

And then I let go.

Letting my soul breathe,

letting it bathe in the universe ,

the universe that is me,

oh-so-wild and free

My soul is made of colors

though some say it shines too bright

others are envious,

to be honest i’m not sure why.

My soul is made of seas

that no sailor did tame

though many did try,

they all drowned beneath the waves.

My soul is made of magic

that keeps me flying high

For I soar on wings like dragons

over all my fearful nights.

My soul is made of many things

though my favorite of all is light

For I may not be strong like iron

but that doesn’t mean that for me

you won’t die.

While I will stay forever

embedded in other minds

Wurtzite Boron Nitride-This metal is harder than a diamond. This is what my soul is made of. God knew my life would be tough. So, he gave me a soul harder than diamonds that can withstand the harsh circumstances of life. "Shine bright like a Diamond" but I'm hard like Wurtzite Boron Nitride.

She knew it was time. Six months earlier, Emma’s well loved but aged greyhound had withered and eventually died after a long illness. They had been best friends for more than a decade, and Batman’s rheumatic hips and clouded eyes hadn’t taken away his playful spirit. When the vet told Emma that the unusually sluggish behavior was due to advanced cancer, she had cried with her face buried in the dog’s neck until the last breath. Her house had been so lonely without the beautiful dog, and Emma had lovingly packed the bowls and leash in a box in the attic. “I’ll never love another dog,” she told herself. “It hurts too much to lose them.”

The days were lonely without her best friend, and her co-workers had eventually hinted that she might be ready to think about adopting another dog. Emma had demurred. She wasn’t ready. It hurt too much. But now, she knew it was time. As she walked past the shelter on her way home from work, she spied a volunteer walking a grey pitbull who was pulling enthusiastically. She was big - probably 65 pounds, and had a big white spot around her eyes like a mask. The minute she spotted Emma, she locked eyes with her and wagged her tail like they were lost friends, pulling at the leash to say hello. Her ears were big and her face looked like she was laughing. “Slow down,” the young ponytailed volunteer grunted, but she kept pulling, her tongue hanging out and his eyes sparkling with the fun of chasing a new scent.

When Emma approached, she sat, wagging her tail and waiting for her eagerly. “Hi, girl,” she crooned, looking at the volunteer. “Can I pet her?” she asked.

The volunteer shrugged. “Sure,” he said, scrolling on his phone.

Emma let the dog sniff her hand which she enthusiastically did and then licked it. The dog's eyes were huge and brown and when she looked at Emma,it was with complete recognition. “Aren’t you beautiful?” Emma sang to the dog, rubbing first her chin and then giving her a good pat on the head. The dog wriggled with delight, grinning at Emma, her tail batting furiously against the sidewalk. Emma knelt on the ground and the dog licked her face with zeal. “What’s her name?” she asked the volunteer.

“Robin,” he told her. "She seems to like you."

Emma nodded. "I like her, too."

"She's been here a while," the volunteer said. "'Bout six months."