Where does the soul sleep? (Poem)
Nov 19, 2024
We sculpt organs, we shape the flesh,
Life in a petri, raw and fresh.
Crafting hearts, weaving veins,
Mastering nature, breaking its chains.
What of the soul, where does it lie?
In tissue built, or dreams that die?
We grow the parts, but can’t yet see
the spark of thought, the “I” to be.
Neurons bloom, a tangled maze,
Electric whispers, their silent praise.
We mimic life, in science bold,
But the essence escapes, a mystery untold.
Each synapse forged, a fleeting chance,
To glimpse the self in its silent dance.
Yet still we ask, as tissues grow,
What makes the mind, the spirit glow?
Through organelles, through genes we pry,
Building worlds where cells comply.
But questions linger, vast and deep,
Where does the soul within us sleep?
