This Could Be Called The Soul

This could be called the soul:

my sense of being, not just alive but that I'm aware, and somehow belong to the greater whole as well. A function, vital to it all. Perhaps this could be called the soul, this feeling that emanates from my belonging. 

everything points to this connection - my breath drawn air, and my body the same stuff as earth somehow given form. My every action a movement of the world. To add that I'm aware, a sensing capacity that knows the touch of wind against me - from this I find no separation from what I feel and what seems to cause this feeling. It's an experience of one. 

perhaps this could be called the soul of the world. 

this is no claim of a universal truth, it's not a belief, nor a religion of my own - what I'm calling soul is simply this moment, what arises, and how it all fits to a singular experience of now. I offer no explanation, just these words in brief description, and how they too appear within this moment, an expression of the soul as well. 

this could be called the soul - of a thousand other names. Or better yet to leave it unnamed, allow it to stay in the silence of its first home. But I find that even words belong, the urge to give voice as holy as its silent origin. It's all soul. One expression. And there's no point, nor will, to censor what arises to be told. I call it soul, but just for now, only in this moment. How it will expressed tomorrow I have no idea, another name, different words I'm sure. 

for right now though - this could be called the soul. 

~

Peace, Eric