Degrees of Soul

(Turkish DOBAG rug) Degrees of Soul Awhile ago I got a Turkish rug that opened my eyes To what real joy looks like Transferred to one’s work. In this rug I could see the soul of a weaver Proud to be part of a tradition She added to with each delicate knot. And with my eyes so opened I could clearly see by extension The degree of soul of each work of art in my home. And the range was startling From nonexistent to brilliant glimpses Into the creative Mind of the universe. After a few days my vision grew foggy again And the soul of all these pieces Became once more hidden beneath the surface. The window onto the essence of the Mind Had closed taking with it the lucid vision And sense of connection. I was left apart but never separate From the knowledge that soul truly exists It’s mark on everything we do. The degrees of soul are everywhere like this Subtle and informing Flavoring what it is we call quality of Life. And so we live and breathe Taking and giving an essence beyond words Even when unconscious clearly manifest. (11/14/24)