Change

The aged tea tastes the same
today as yesterday – with a squeeze
of honey. But the tulips
now, those are bit more wilted.

More open, yes, but drooping,
the fresh clear water of last
week grown murky. Slimy.

I am older, happier, sadder, fatter
than this time last year. And
the day broke cold and rainy
this morning. But
the tea tastes the same.

Solus

But when we are able to recognize the poles between which we move and develop a sensitivity for this inner field of tension, then we no longer have to feel lost and can begin to discern the direction in which we want to move.” – Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out

i am alone
and yet

connected to the thread

i am mine
and yet

all creation bears my name

and yours is emblazoned upon my heart

I stand in the crowd of harried shoppers,
solitaries searching among racks
of half priced post-Christmas sales for
the satisfaction of
the deep craving of
a lonely heart,

and I consider restlessness – an ache
to attach to another through
a tether of goods to
consume the prey and
fill the empty void of need.

Dread of eternal isolation, the hum
mmmmmmming louder each moment.
Retreat retreat retreating from loneliness,
companionship quiets the ever impending

-for a time-

Being with myself, I
am converted to a new way:
alone in the crowd. My
restful inner necessity has nothing to say
in this moment.
Loneliness becomes solitude
The quiet inner center need not
say a thing
but rejoices
in the unity
of the crowd.