I think, only my maker knows the depths and health of it.

Otherwise unremarkable, my intellectual gifts are artistic conceptualization, and creative synthesis.

Like the blacksmith working the iron; I give the abstract, purpose and form.
Where the elements of balance, pattern, and line -- are forged.

The intelligence isn’t too hard - sometimes yes, sometimes not so much 😂 - but the soul is harder. I’m as much a bit of everything as life and the world in general. Beautiful, ugly, shameful, and glorious. A bird that flies with a broken wing.

I know my mind is definitely a little messed up , and my hippie heart tends to bleed more than it should , but my poor soul, I swear that thing is a thousand years old..

Some writers can get close, but between a thought and words there are many opportunities for mistranslation

Hypnosis and past life regression. It worked when i did it. Hence the sn. Ha

My soul is a manesfistation of the my level of connection to everything around me. For me, my soul is the unity of everything.

Anything you produce/create with passion and joy is a representation of your soul, and it still won't do justice to the vastness your soul holds.
And how it is interpreted by another soul depends on where they are in their journey.
The only way a soul is in true resonance with another is when their frequencies match, and words or mediums of expression are not so important.

What a beautiful question! I love your interest in who people are, beneath all the noise and fuss and clutter of stuff.
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Here is my soul, drawn from one of my favourite poems. My soul? Refuses to settle in cynicism because it paralyses us and sucks us dry of life.
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...Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

My soul hurts, yearns and wonders.

That is precisely what words are for!
Music especially.


If you wanna know my mind and soul?
Listen to the rhythm of my heart.

Soft like silk, pliable to a point like leather, and sharp edged like cold steel when it needs to be with an everlasting light on the horizon!

prickly edges with spaces between that lead to a deep center… warmth alongside the dark deep. The spaces between allow for light to come through (both inward and outward).

You can explain the thought and sensory experiences, but not the experience of your consciousness/soul.

Hopeful - my soul -a seedling poking up towards the son

Intelligence -The bulb is dimming some as I age ,but still curious about the world

I don't know.

I think it would be cool if we could see a visual representation of what our soul looks like.

I don´t say it´s not possible, but at least about myself I can´t.

My soul is that which makes me unique in all of time and space.

Hey someone was looking for you recently

Soul fine,communication of intelligence less easy

poetry or music.

not sure how to do that

Once I figure out how; I'm gonna upload myself onto the internet!

Just keep it (your soul) for god which it belongs to

Its probably gonna sound an awful lot like a Pink Floyd song. LOL

"Black as Midnight, Black as pitch, Blacker than the foulest witch"