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Abstract

c1">Is this the soul of gratitude?What about a child who holds your hand and looks up for no reason and smiles?Is that the soul of trust?Does a soul have a purpose? Is it an absolute destiny that evolves before birth as well as death with an inhale and exhale, or a cry with closed eyes?Can a soul drift to a sea’s bed to rest?Or climb mountains and stitch a map with pieces of calico handed down from generations to continue the threads expressed in our stories?Maybe souls are before us and in us and around us; that invisible connection that draws and repels us to each other. Maybe it’s a blank page that’s full and yet clear but is revealed when we dip our pen over tender to find our sou

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l is a well of ink.Carolyn Riker is a poet, writer and author. She has two books of poetry: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Blue-Clouds-Collection-Creative-Intelligence/dp/0692808450/">Blue Clouds</a> and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/This-Love-Poetry-Carolyn-Riker/dp/0998976679/">This is Love</a>. In addition to writing, she has a private practice as a highly sensitive mental health therapist. If you would like to read more of her words, follow her on Facebook at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CarolynRikerLMHC/?ref=settings">Carolyn Riker, MA, LMHC</a>.This story was published in The Cotton Thread — weaving life with words. If you want to be a writer in our publication, <a href="https://readmedium.com/write-for-us-2cdec60417c1">click here</a>.</article></body>

What is a Soul?

What is a soul? Has anyone seen one?

What if that rabbit over there with the fair pink petal ears is a soul’s voice of nature?

What if laughter, that squeezes tears, is the soul of happiness?

Have you ever felt in awe at the way the sun sets and kisses a fence and paints the shadow of a hummingbird into a masterpiece with its rapid soft winged blinks?

Is this the soul of gratitude?

What about a child who holds your hand and looks up for no reason and smiles?

Is that the soul of trust?

Does a soul have a purpose? Is it an absolute destiny that evolves before birth as well as death with an inhale and exhale, or a cry with closed eyes?

Can a soul drift to a sea’s bed to rest?

Or climb mountains and stitch a map with pieces of calico handed down from generations to continue the threads expressed in our stories?

Maybe souls are before us and in us and around us; that invisible connection that draws and repels us to each other. Maybe it’s a blank page that’s full and yet clear but is revealed when we dip our pen over tender to find our soul is a well of ink.

Carolyn Riker is a poet, writer and author. She has two books of poetry: Blue Clouds and This is Love. In addition to writing, she has a private practice as a highly sensitive mental health therapist. If you would like to read more of her words, follow her on Facebook at Carolyn Riker, MA, LMHC.

This story was published in The Cotton Thread — weaving life with words. If you want to be a writer in our publication, click here.