“How deep is the soul?” once asked the sea,
For not even the ocean knew its depth.
What, then, must the waters think of me,
That I am borne of greater breadth?
I once pondered the ocean profound,
I marveled the azure’s expanse.
On vastness my astonishment formerly ground,
But now, inwardly, I glance.
The depths of my soul I surely know not,
And, thus, I search a response.
Was it imagined, crafted, spoken, or bought?
Perhaps, it was all those at once.
“How deep is the soul?” still asks the sea.
“One day,” I say, “one day, we’ll see.”