Can I be alone with loons crying nearby, why should they cry? Their life is seemingly perfect.
Alone was the eagle who traced slow spirals in the blue canvass above this afternoon. But is he alone now, in the darkness, at his perch?
Alone is the red coated fox who tried to stare me down at the edge of my firelight. Am I intruding on his alone time.
Alone is the bulldog croaking for a mate. I'd croak too if nature urged me so.
Alone is the single cricket, out of place in the wet area beyond the light of the fire.
Am I alone on the shore of this lake with so much life around?
My ears reach out for a sound but for the moment, the only sound is the ringing in my own ears.
Alone with my thoughts and memories. I'm what has changed, evolved, matured.
What drove me once so passionately was replaced by complacency, albeit with a modicum of contentment.
Is this how we all reconcile being alone?
Comments are closed.