After Robert Moss, from the poem “Soul Is” in his book Here, Everything Is Dreaming.
“The soul is something that is always trying to leave/like a caged bird longing for the sky.” (RM)
How long has it been, since the
last time we spoke? Soul
to soul I mean, the way it used to be but is
no more. Something
changed between us – that
I still haven’t figured out. Is
it because I was always
wanting more? Always trying
to ask for something I know I can’t have? To
love; to possess, even: only to leave
each time you remind me that I can’t have it, like
a spoiled child runs away from home at the first ‘no’? A
wanting, an untamable desire, that could never be caged –
like an insistently squawking bird
who can no longer fly but is still longing
to spread his broken wings and lift off, for
the exquisite taste of freedom he remembers, from the
blue and boundless sky.
3/3/24
Karen McCaskey 