From childhood I knew that the soul
was a diaphanous version of the body
(pretty well two-dimensional like the sole of a shoe)
that left the body on the ground when it died
and went up to heaven while angels hovered, praying.
Now someone I trust has told me
that my soul is my inner life.
You could have knocked me down with a feather.
So I went into my inner life and checked it out:
‘Are you really my soul?’
My inner being smiled and said,
‘My names are legion.
What actually counts is how well you know me.
You can call me soul, if you like,
but don’t confuse me with chicken soup, or music.’