SENSE OF SOUL

These eyes of mine
Do not like the sight
Of people obese
Far from the beauty of the body
But inside, my mind is at ease
When it has a big fat ego
Inflated till eternity

These lait-colored hands
Of mine, do not like
To touch the black
Complexion and the race inferior
But inside there is a corner
Shamelessly black in the heart

These ears of mine
Do not like to hear
Words vilifying and not sounding
Joyful and encouraging, but
Every time I hear
Satan’s voice inside of me
Tempting, demeaning
Hiding the conscience and alluring
Directing to all fear

I do not like the smell
Odoriferous of rotten ground
And slums steeped
In filth and poverty
But inside, deepest crevices
Of the body, lie smells
Unsweet and hidden
Like the path less trodden

This tongue of mine
Does not relish
The alcohol and the drink
But inside the veins, flows
The wine of heaven on the brink

What these external
Organs of sense perceive
Is not dissimilar from
My core, now I believe

But today I want to
Place my greater faith on
That which is perfect
And without prejudice
That which perceives the outside
From the inside hole,
The perfect sixth sense
And they call it the ‘soul’

-------------Shilpi, Dec 27,2009