Whither goes my soul?
Ever it follows, to nowhere.  Or so it seems.


Such struggle, such storm with rare a port,
But peace I know deep within
Placed there pleasantly by Him.
He who knows the way I go,
As I wander in soul mazes with unseen phases.

From above all's clear to the One who holds dear -
Dear the soul in its pursuit, of Him whom
Untold mysteries enfold . . . Are we so bold?
So bold to search for hidden gold lost in stories retold until the end?
It's the end we seek but sorrow to find,
For then our stories all unwind in dread,
Dread of the dead deadness come up a wall.
To turn, we try.  Only endless to die, all.
Until the maze manager manages to
Lead us to look upward and see reflected in His
Smile where we ought to be, sought to be, and are.
In the place where His grace can find us
Lost among the mazes of our minds,
Bound in forgotten fears formed long ago, lost
In the pains and paeans of life's storms.

But not ever too lost to look up and see the beauty
Of His love for me, O sorrowful excuse for a me.
So cast the soaring eye to behold us as He does,
In His smiling embrace we never race but
Still ourselves in silent grace,
Holy exuberance without price, ever does it suffice
The true love needs of heart, soul's bearing,
Broken to be healed, and ever hallowed.

Hallowed by His Presence Reflected and One with His Smiling Face,
                        - born within as in, Him.
All is seen, soul. Whither worry without knowing?
For He knows all, and we are One eternally known,
Ever grown, ever growing, deeply we wander amazing.

Whither goes my soul?  I care not.
It's His, and He knows where it goes, and where its going.
Look up and be free. No wall can conquer we:
I over it, as I come upon it, without knowing.

Christopher J. Patton 1/21/2000

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