I praise God for His promise of a future. I wonder if we will be able to shape shift in heaven? can i I be tall one day and medium the next? Can I have blonde hair one day, and brown the next? What will our bodies be like, I wonder. I also wondered what our soul is like. The real us. Not our bodies. That eternal and personal part of us not expressed by our bodies. So, of course, I wrote a poem to express the questions I have about our soul. Some of it is whimsical, but it has a good point to it. Bear with me. MY SOUL As I was in my room: I began to think about this in my head What our soul resembles before we’re dead Before we meet our dooms Before we are deceased in our tombs. I pondered this as I lay on my bed. Does it have our body’s contour? Is it shaped even a bit like me? Is it male or female, or gender free? Is it young, middle aged, old or mature? Will I discern this before the deed? Is there anyway to be sure? What is the shape of our spirit? Does it look like me in the face? Does it even have a form; does it sit? Does it vary from race to race? Does it run around a bit? Does it feel like heaven’s its base? What color is my soul? Does it change over time? From blue, to red or gold? Does it look really old? Does yours look like mine? Is it cautious like me, or bold? Or flutter about noisily? Is it short like me as a female? Does it move inside us quietly? Does it change shape; are they pale? Does it ever hurt at all, even partly? Does it shirk back in fear or quail? Does it fill me up completely? Or leave empty spaces, more or less? Is my soul knit together tightly? Is it melded to my self’s flesh Or a part of my body loosely? What they are is anyone’s guess. Its appearance, I do not know And I don’t even know how it is made. Nor its style, its color, or even its shade. And it fills me up, even as I grow. God called it forth, He bade. So I have one- that I surely do know.
Posted on: Tue, 29 Oct 2013 13:16:32 +0000
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