sunrise over swamps

sunset over melancholy seas

Poem 6 of 30

on April 7, 2013

Loneliness is a gift; so says the one who gets no time alone.

So, I take it, and try to embrace

each day as it comes, with its promise of space and silence.

The space with its freedom to move and to think without speaking, and

the silence to hear each thought as it floats up from within my spirit and to the surface:

“Who am I? What am I doing here?”

Am I even here, and how would I know?

There is no one here with me to reach across the table, touch my arm and say,

“I see you.”

 

Loneliness leads to new ways of seeing.

The sunlight shines through dandelion leaves.

A living ant carries a dead ant.

A strand of spider web floats across the garden.

A blackbird hops along the fence, while singing his autumn song.

The moon is high and pale in the morning sky.

The gum trees move and sway in the wind.

It’s slow, subtle, and very alive.

I could not see it if I were caught in the distractions of

trying to read another’s face and

trying to guess at their thoughts and

wonder about questions of love and

self and

purpose.

 

Yet, for all the beauty of the living creatures,

passing through their lives with their own thoughts and meanings that are

revealed to me on these lonely days,

I do think it would be more beautiful if

I could share this view with

someone who could reach across the table and say,

“I see it all and

I see you, too.”

intpowrimo_cherry

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