This lovely, A. We have just returned after 10 days with our grandkids, 6 and 4, and their parents, our son and daughter-in-law. Watching them parent with all the joy, happiness, exhaustion and exasperation that can bring brought us back. Sometimes you just want a moment…
This is lovely, Rachel. Your invoking of Billie Holliday and a “lonesome saxophone” resonated with me and I can hear she and that sax entering my day. What lovely companions on a journey to anywhere!
(Solitude is where I am still enough to notice and connect with nature, so really not solitude at all. This poem is drawn from an encounter 3 years ago when I slowed down to draw and listen to a tree stump.)
This is wonderful! What creative imagery you create-“ for absorbent empaths /it can be hard to tell/like black jeans/in a three cat house”. And “important to get alone/and quiet (inside)/then let spirit/re-tune is.” What a remarkable weaving of words and images!
I was just thinking something similar to your poem as I am sitting here at a table in a cafe, where I’m having brunch with my daughter and husband. They are off ordering food and I’m sitting here surrounded in the sound of other people talking, laughing, the music in the backgound. And finding a bit of peace and quiet.
This reminds me of how you can offer your yoga practice intention to someone. A blessing to someone. It’s like your poem is a blessing for others as it’s also your own practice.
A moment, please;
just a moment
without someone else
climbing, whining,
or needing me.
.
I used to think;
could think for hours
without anyone
distracting, attacking,
or interrupting me.
.
I got what I wanted;
got everything
I had always
imagine, hoped for,
and dreamed.
.
I'm learning now;
learning that all along
what I needed to feel
hopeful, content,
and at peace
.
was always here,
inside me.
I'm hearing Cat's in the Cradle as I read your moving and relatable poem!
Ooh as a mother of twins. I very much relate to this. ❤️💆🏼♀️
This lovely, A. We have just returned after 10 days with our grandkids, 6 and 4, and their parents, our son and daughter-in-law. Watching them parent with all the joy, happiness, exhaustion and exasperation that can bring brought us back. Sometimes you just want a moment…
Love this ❤️
Fermatas show up
To hold the music longer.
Grab all that you can.
I had to learn to love you, Solitude.
You scared me so
With the way you pushed me onto the couch
And turned on the tv
Even when the day held open doors
To lightening bugs and grassy knolls
—
I didn’t know the trail taken in single file
Gave space to drink in images
Beneath the trees
Of bobbing buds and buzzing bees
Orchestral passages otherwise unheard
From feathered friends
And peeping frogs
Whose need to be in conversation
I had missed.
—
Home, home again
Upon my couch I rest
With newfound gratitude for what you gave
That only with the space to be alone
May I sup the ichor of the day
And rest with belly full
Within the bliss of solitude.
A lifetime of seeking approval
Proved to be totally empty
In Solitude I found the Person
I wanted to be seen by, was Me
So now I move placidly
Amid the noise and haste
Mr Ehrmann would be proud
That I no longer chase
Recognition from others
And the yearning for applause
Validation comes from within
Remember the Wizard of Oz?
But you’ll never learn this
Out in the busy World
Its in Solitude we learn
How to unearth this Pearl
Remember, what you seek
Is seeking You
And it’s much easier to find
In the stillness of Solitude
This is terrific Jimmy. Well said.
Deep wisdom, Jimmy! Bravo!
Solitude I crave
Solitude I seek
Solitude amidst the masses
Feeling soft and weak
Solitude a lover
Solitude a friend
Solitude among the others
Seeing through their end
Solitude a cloak
Solitude a bench
Solitude covered in babies
They tug, tickle, wrench
Solitude a perfume
Solitude a sister
Solitude with all the women
Each free from their mister
Solitude I'm loving
Solitude I find
Solitude, in gratitude,
My heart, my soul, my mind
I love this Sarah! A true ode to solitude!
SOLITUDE
Solitude appears to all
But turns a different cheek to each
For those with too much going on
It offers a refreshing breach
To those who live it day and night
It's just their lot to be endured
For those who live by lofty thoughts
A daily discipline ensured
For those who seek a higher plane
The path by which their goal's pursued
But all will find it at their end
As senses fade and stillness comes
We leave this world in solitude.
I like the rhyme and cadence m, Joe!
"But turns a different cheek to each" - what a great way of describing solitude!
In my solitude
I hear Billie Holiday
And a lonesome saxophone
Sing of reveries
Of days gone by
And I wonder, will I ever
Quiet the noise enough
To know the real song
When it comes
To voice my own melody
Memories and reveries
That speak of love
Lonesome yet universal
A kind of truth
That everyone can hear.
In my solitude you taunt me
With memories that never die
This is beautiful, Chuck!
To voice my own melody - this is so relatable Rachel 💜
This is lovely, Rachel. Your invoking of Billie Holliday and a “lonesome saxophone” resonated with me and I can hear she and that sax entering my day. What lovely companions on a journey to anywhere!
Solitude
This is perhaps the hardest lesson
I had to learn
The most challenging situation
I had to accept
I struggled
I fought back
I refused
I cried
I wallowed
I wailed
I became quiet
and understood
that by embracing solitude
I was finding a way
to discover
the very essence
of my soul
Wonderful, Jane! May there be grace in the embrace!
Mother tree and I
Regard each other
Her at the end
Of her nurturing,
Giving all her body
To the new shoots
And me,
Just at the start,
My little sapling
Within.
(Solitude is where I am still enough to notice and connect with nature, so really not solitude at all. This poem is drawn from an encounter 3 years ago when I slowed down to draw and listen to a tree stump.)
This is beautiful, Jess! I love the analogy of the old tree with your own beginning. Thank you for sharing this very nice poem!
Solitude
is what taught me
my own energy is good.
For absorbent empaths,
it can be hard to tell:
like black jeans
in a three-cat house,
we pick up everything.
Important to get alone
and quiet (inside),
then let Spirit
re-tune us.
“Like black jeans in a three cat house we pick up everything”. Yes. Exactly. So well felt and said.
This is wonderful! What creative imagery you create-“ for absorbent empaths /it can be hard to tell/like black jeans/in a three cat house”. And “important to get alone/and quiet (inside)/then let spirit/re-tune is.” What a remarkable weaving of words and images!
solitude
an old
acquaintance
at times
you have been
antagonist
bringing
loneliness
watching others
reminding me
I am not welcome
due to exile
for any number of
reasons
other times
you have been
a mentor and
old friend
providing space
away from
noise
and commotion
offering wisdom
and rest
however you appear
whether you are
accompanied by
much needed
refuge
or anguished
tears
you always
provide invitation
to reset
closing out
one chapter
and a blank page
on which
the next begins
Nice, Steven. “Closing out/one chapter/and a blank page/on which/the next begins.” Brilliant!
From crowd and clamor
I flee to quiet respite
soothed in solitude.
Yes, I echo this!
I was just thinking something similar to your poem as I am sitting here at a table in a cafe, where I’m having brunch with my daughter and husband. They are off ordering food and I’m sitting here surrounded in the sound of other people talking, laughing, the music in the backgound. And finding a bit of peace and quiet.
Solitude
A girl setting a tray with a plate of spaghetti and salad
on an empty table
in a high school cafeteria.
No one comes to join.
She is surrounded by noise of hundred classmates laughing.
A mountaintop, snow depths burying icy rock face, Mt. Denali perhaps,
soaring above the tree line
where climbers dare not go,
but foxes, beavers, moose calves, ptarmigans, voles
belie the great alone.
A woman leaving her cell phone forgotten by her bedside.
Now navigating her day
without disembodied companion voices, piled up messages from friends
and strangers
her likes, emojis, and memes. Suddenly unconnected.
A cardinal sitting in Conclave
waiting for the name he fears, or hopes will be spoken,
His own? Alone.
Yet surrounded by brothers, and millions of the faithful
Imagining what cannot be imagined, but only lived.
A house breathing after death
When cards and casseroles and calls have stopped coming
and the widow sits alone in a chair
beginning to learn
the language of loss.
Our native forefathers called it Vision quest.
Alone in sacred space
Surrounded by nature, and by the ghosts of ancestors;
Alone but not alone
In Space for heart, mind, body.
Wait in these places for Presence:
Your own presence,
Or the divine by whatever name you call it.
Wait for still water
And hear your own soul,
for the first time knowing it,
loving it.
This is classically and creatively beautiful, Barbara. Each stanza has its own powerful voice; together, they rise like a mountain from the sea!
To all my kin who move through life with anxiety.
I wish you peace,
A calming, quiet peace that soothes the soul.
I wish you hope
For all the times that may seem hopeless.
I wish you calm,
For all the ways the storms may rock your reality.
I wish you joy,
For all the days that seem devoid of any laughter.
I wish you gentleness,
For all the moments when others remind you of what you are not.
I wish you Love,
For yourself and others, on all those days when disappointment and failure close you in.
I wish you stillness
When all the voices chatter
Like a busy summer street.
I wish you solitude,
Quiet in the chaos,
Silence in the mind,
Deep peace in the center of your heart.
That you may know the sacred wisdom that flows,
When you realize you are enough.
This reminds me of how you can offer your yoga practice intention to someone. A blessing to someone. It’s like your poem is a blessing for others as it’s also your own practice.
I like that, Vanessa! I had not thought of a yoga intention, but it works! Thank you!
Reading this poem brought me to my own little solitude while on a noisy plane 🩵