Home Again Soul
As a child
I thought my soul
Was an organ
That sat
In my breastless chest.
Pure,
As white as a cloud,
A cotton ball,
A baby blanket,
Downy soft,
A place where
The Holy Spirit dove
Could rest.
The bad news, of course,
Was sin,
Which stained the soul-
Its pristine formlessness
Soiled by iniquity.
Confession
Washed it clean again
While penance hung it out to dry.
Silly, childish misconception
And yet,
These days,
I think of soul again.
I’ve learned to cherish
That pure white space-
Hot house
For tender seedlings of the self,
Resting place once more
For the Holy Spirit.
By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Mike Smith
Happy Sunday morning! This poem was written a few years back, but I was reminded of it this week as I was reading Richard Rohr’s book, “Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life”. Regarding the second half of life, he talks about a “second naivete” that is a return to simplicity after having learned from all the complexity. In a sense, this feels like coming home. This poem also speaks, of course, to the idea that children take things they are told very literally. We can all probably remember funny ways that we or our children put literal meaning to words. Anyway, I hope you can enjoy a little simplicity and rest in your own pure white space this week.
Once again, love it. You inspired me to read his book.
Peace to you sister.
Susan
It is pretty interesting. I am not finished yet but there are parts that really ring true for me.
I have the book too! Love it and the changes that happen throughout our life! I still remember the sister who wrote on the chalkboard, with such certainty, our souls and how sin affected it. Even then, I thought at 6 years old, “how does she know this??” And then someone asked about pets going to heaven, as six year olds as, and again, her answer was “no”– such a hard theology…
Dogs go to heaven. I am not sure about cats, though. They kill birds. That has GOT to be a mortal sin.