Thirteen Ways of Looking at Her Soul | Teen Ink

Thirteen Ways of Looking at Her Soul

January 2, 2020
By ading9437 BRONZE, Staten Island, New York
ading9437 BRONZE, Staten Island, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments


Among twenty million bustling pedestrians,

The only moving thing 

Was the pitter-patter of Her heart.


She was of three minds,

Like a dream

In which there are three souls.


Her soul twisted and twirled in the darkness.

It was a small part of the pandemonium. 


A heart and a brain

Are one. 

A heart and a brain and Her soul

Are one. 


She does not know which to prefer, 

The beauty of ignorance

Or the beauty of ephemeral happiness, 

Her soul calling

Or just after.


Gates guarded the delicate window

With pitchforks.

The shadow of Her soul

Tried to break free. 

The mood

Traced in the shadow

A pitiful truth.


O ignorant people of life,

Why do you imagine golden souls?

Do you not see how Her soul

Yearns for freedom

From stress, pressure, oblivion?


She knows irreversible truths

And unfortunate, inescapable endings;

But she knows, too, 

That Her soul is involved

In what she knows. 


When Her soul shined, 

It removed the light

Of one of many stars.


At the sight of Her soul

Gleaming in a dark luminescence,

Even the angels of light

Would cease their singing.


It reappeared over time

In a glistening glare.

Once, a fear pierced it,

In that it mistook

The shadow of its light

For Her soul.


The people are returning home.

Her soul must be smiling.


It was busy all Sunday.

It was thundering

And it was going to thunder.

Her soul grieved 

In the dream.

The author's comments:

This is an emulation of the poem, "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" by Wallace Stevens. 

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