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Not that transparent self tucked   under my skin
one day to be set free by my death that it might fly.
Not the Oversoul of Emerson, his New England Atman,
unless you can oil it up first, so that it slips out of your hand
as soon as you try to cut and paste it to a dictionary page
in the same part of the library as theology,
but far from where they gather the poems.
When Bill T. Jones or Alvin Ailey leap on the dance stage,
you might catch a glimpse of it out of the corner
of the corner of your eye, but you will never be sure.
You’ll note that your breathing changed pace,
and that your eyes are wet, but those are clues, not soul.
It’s not a thing to be carried, but sometimes
you might feel that you are being carried
high above the snapping dragons at your feet.
You can’t say it occupies space, but without
the space between you and me, space to be crossed,
best not to talk about it.
Steady love, and tested friendship are the chalices
that appear to hold it like fine wine,
but if you drink it, it’s that rare
vintage
that is never drunk to the dregs.
What is between you and me might be called soul,
but when we are gone, and different faces anchor
the between-ness, it will still be there when are not.
When music bears it along into your bones,
you will feel that you can rush up and embrace it,
but soon you’ll smile remembering it is not an it.
More of a becoming, more like fire
that can both illumine and scorch, dance and consume.
The last line of a Szymborska poem usually
uncovers the soul which was right there all along.
Soul is the spirit of it all, not the all.
Life, not desire.
Passion, not frenzy or desperation.
Not juice in the limbic system,
but the relationship between that and, say, Alpha Centauri,
and between Alpha Centauri and thatness.
Or between your eye and a homeless woman
bobbing against a wall in the snow,
or between your skin and the skin of someone
shot dead because of the color of theirs.
You know, soul.
Here it is, right now.

Here it is, right now.

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Rev. Dr. Mark Belletini

Senior Minister Emeritus at First UU Church of Columbus, Ohio

Mark Belletini was born in Detroit Michigan in June of 1949. He grew up there, attended parochial schools, and Oakland University in Rochester MI, then discovered his embrace of the Unitarian Universalist way at the Universalist Unitarian Church of Farmington MI. He graduated from Starr King School for the Ministry in 1978, served our congregations in San Francisco and Hayward CA, and retired from his last call from First Unitarian Universalist Church in Columbus OH. During his ministry he taught at both SKSM and at Meadville Lombard, and chaired the Hymnbook Resources Commission which put together the hymnbook Singing the Living Tradition. He served on our credentialing body for ministry, The Fellowship Committee, for 8 years. Skinner House Press has published his books Sonata for Voice and Silence, (a small collection of the devotional writings he used for years to lead into the great silence at the heart of worship he led on Sundays,) and Nothing Gold Can Stay, a book on grief. He is an active member of the Ohio River Study Group for which he has enjoyed continuing scholarly pursuits in the papers he has written and delivered. He has been an artist throughout his life, loves to cook, has been active the GLBTQ struggles both within the UUA and outside it, and is deeply and gratefully steeped in his Emilian Italian heritage and culture from all four grandparents. He counts his friends and colleagues the joy of his life, with his adopted and amazing son Tony Hess as the focus of his daily gratitude.

Latest posts by Rev. Dr. Mark Belletini (see all)

• Ode to Silence - December 1, 2020
• Sequence - July 1, 2019
• Soul - June 1, 2017