A little background on this one. I have a variety of autoimmune, chronic pain, and depressed immunity problems. I wrote this to express what it’s like to have a janky “Earth Suit” because I was at a place of extreme frustration with my body. I think we can all relate to the frustrations that comes with our aging bodies. We are confined to these flesh prisons, which are both glorious and fallible. God bless us, every one.
Pink and soft, untainted,
Newborn awed by brand new life,
When I was born from Mother’s womb,
Cord cut by doctor’s knife.
God had poured my soul in it,
When only several cells,
Making a perfect vessel
In which my soul to dwell.
Customized for me alone,
This body built for play,
Face to show expression,
Hands to fold and pray.
A young and ceaseless wonder,
Against wear and tear prevailed,
This body perfect for childhood,
Exquisite in detail.
But content to be a child,
Growing up soon followed,
And before I could accept it,
A woman shared my suit.
Round and curvy and soft again,
I, this time, cut the cord,
I thought I would survive in it,
But it instead became my ward.
All the world could offer,
It greedily consumed.
Full the flesh that gave it weight,
Void the soul it roomed.
And though the days went slowly,
The years at light speed passed.
I came to see this Earth Suit
Was never made to last.
The vessel now shows wearing,
In time it will decay.
But the Spirit that inhabits it
Will never pass away.
When a soul has done it’s growing
Within the confines of it’s shell,
I will leave this strange foreign space
Ageless, free, and well.
What ticking clock can’t take from me,
What ocean cannot rust,
What thief can never steal from me,
What cannot turn to dust,
What grave and tomb cannot confine,
And moths extract a toll,
Awed now my eternal life,
The everlasting soul.
For the human body is but a shell,
A suit to wear on Earth,
The Human soul, after all,
Is the measure of true worth.
- By: JANA GREENE – TheBeggarsBakery.com
Musings of a Gypsy Soul 