Where does the soul reside?
Does it even exist?
Who is the one who often leads me? Who is the one who speaks inside? Where does it come from?
Carrying me up to the higher spheres of the spirit like a boatman with a boat across the river.
Like a bridge connecting two worlds.
High arches of this bridge protect me against stormy rivers of life.
Where does it lead to?
The soul knows. It leaves just a few words for me, just crumbs as leftovers from a breakfast.
I don´t know much about the soul when it is completely silent.
Sometimes it sings and shivers when the fair wind blows.
At such moment it is filled up with the seven streams of the spirit.
It glows with brilliance and force, singing.
The hymn of love.
The hymn of glory and respect and thanks.
Leaving me with its peace in my womb like a leaf in a palm of a hand I slumber…
And far away I still can hear it singing:
I am your messenger of the gods
And there is unspoken thought hanging on my lips: Will you come again?
Where does my soul come to me from?
Where does it come from?
When it sings,
My heart shivers joyfully,
When it moves,
My blood in my veins warms up,
When it tells me something,
It echoes in my thoughts.
And the arches of the inner temple can hear it.
The walls arch higher and higher
And the structure mightily lifts and raises itself up.
The vaults of the seven cavities lift and swell up
And the windows of the fragile building in the head are being opened.
And the angels fly around it solemnly…
Where does the soul live?
Yes, now I know again.
It is always nearby.
It rises up again and again in the temple of the human body.
Telling me the truths which make my bones to sigh,
So solid truths,
Waiting for ages in the marrow.
The fire of its love is not devouring,
It is cleansing and restorative
And it accompanies a man through life.
It is possible to see the meaning of life,
Only just if we walk through life together with a conscious soul.
It resides in me
So we are interwoven through cells.
The soul comes as a messenger of the gods
Because it resides also in God,
Like the Light of the beginning.
It never comes as I would wish to,
But I am still waiting for it patiently
With my open empty hands…,
with widely open heart, bare-headed and barefoot.
When the soul comes,
It brings the power of Logos
So there are the Spirit, the Soul and not-I together,
In one building.
