A certain kind of solitude my soul requires.
Silent but full of sound. Quietly loud.
A way for the mind to rest among raging fires.
The burden of people, is it shameful? I am sometimes not proud.

Proud I am though of what I know of what I need.
It’s simple and beautiful and kind and uncluttered.
It’s pure, honest, a chosen loneliness, my good deed.
The seagulls arrive, the crows walk with me, the wings they are fluttered.

Water is a sacred vessel, a portal, a connection to the divine.
My spirit swims and dances and forges a path against the grind.
Leave your words inside, don’t clutter my mind, I resign.
Hydrated with silence, not isolation, not fearful avoidance, but a found that I always find.

To watch the leaves, to sing with the sea, to listen to animals.
Have you heard the voice of an orca, the greeting of a feline, the dialogue of a goose?
The creatures that delight us, teach us, need us, require so minimal.
When you strip it down, let it go, stop asking, stop waiting, stop talking, stop needing, that’s the juice.

Take a walk, call yourself on the phone, talk to her, listen to her, be her hero.
A certain kind of solitude holds no mystery, no questions, requires no logic.
To share and bring forth the gifts from within: abandon the recipe, begin with zero.
Depletion is mended by repletion from the elements, the true magic.

Do not tell me when you have never been keen. You can never know what has never been.
Push to fill a space and a hole that was never meant to be filled.
The hole is beauty, it’s sacrifice, it’s bold, it’s a story that is deserved to be seen.
The comfort in a space so vibrant, so sure, so opposing, it is warm and never chilled.

No more apologies, time to raise the vibration and take the leap.
The song my heart sings breaks the heart of the ones who’ve tried to listen.
Leave me to my open windows, breezes, sunsets, cats, books, my friends who help me sleep, the sheep.
Caring so deeply, giving so much, my heart knows nothing but to glisten.

But for that I need to awaken, to rest my feet, to hear less the opinion.
To be surrounded by clouds and tides, less footsteps and pride.
The device is soon to be forgotten, but I am still a civilian.
Inside a place where fog meets ship, clear the passage, I do not hide.