An exciting start to NaPoWriMo this year. It took me a couple of days to get off the blocks and get my motors running. The first prompt sent me to the Bibliomancy Oracle and this is what I got:
The Soul unto itself
Is an imperial friend –
Or the most agonizing Spy –
An Enemy – could send –
from “The Soul unto itself (683)” by Emily Dickinson.
Now to follow that, my original poem inspired by that. Personally I find it hard to believe in the concept of a soul.
Was it the death of a loved one?
Or the mystery of our own mind?
Made up for the sake of fun?
The origin of the soul is hard to find.
Found in every civilization,
Reinforced by religious thought.
Is it merely a mass illusion?
Or does it deserve a second thought?
Animals should have souls like ours.
For like us they are alive too?
We may have around the souls of dinosaurs.
If we hold the eternal soul concept true.
If we equate having a soul to being alive,
What happens during the death of a cell?
Souls would also divide and thrive,
During mitosis, as far as I can tell.
Like any animal, we live and die.
The soul being only a perception.
To assert our special status we try,
With the immortal soul illusion.