Alone in the darkness,
When snow covers the rocks
And branches glisten in the faint light;
I sometimes wonder and marvel
At the perplexity of my peace.
Where is the trauma
Of a broken relationship,
The ordeal of change,
The pain of self-imposed exile?
Where, indeed, is the specter of a too quiet solitude?
Perhaps it is the distant music,
Filling the space with heart resonating vibes,
Or the lights by which I write,
Soft, gentle, and caressing,
Diffuse and comfortingly constant.
For the sense of being utterly alone,
Turns to utter joy upon realization
Of boundless self-love within my being,
Of beauty acknowledged permeating my essence,
Of cold feet reminding me of mundane reality.
I feel the soft murmurs of my heart,
As a universe flows like warm honey,
Down the gullet of my whole being,
Reminding me of warm kisses and gentle hugs.
Surely it is the music of the Goddess,
The harmony of the spheres,
That causes the laughter welling within
To erupt in smiles, grins, and chuckles.
Being alive -- even with cold feet --
Does have its compensations.
2003© Copyright Dan Sewell Ward, All Rights Reserved [Feedback]