One pale, quiet morning,
I open my soul’s eyes
unarmed with faith or company,
responsibility or joy,
and see quite plain
the vastness of it all, the loneliness,
the very impossibility of life.
A hand in the desert -
will there be a hand?
Someone who knows the way
to travel this grey distance
and find the distant hills?
The question hangs
in the still air. But
in the birdless silence
is that the gentle ripple
not mocking or sardonic
but inviting, is that -
oh please, is that -
a companionable laugh?
© C.M. 03/13
7 comments:
Oh, well said. And relevant to thoughts I had on my morning walk, about how we are in the final analysis alone, and how instinctive the fear or abhorrence of loneliness. And then, how needed and how satisfying when we sense the Caring Presence.
And how good to have you respond thus, so soon after I'd posted the poem - the companionable moment we long for, expressed by another person in this case. My thoughts led on to thinking of how human beings become instruments of caring in our lives.
Christine, thank you for finding me, I don't know how tho'. It was good to meet you and friend, I am sorry I cant remember her name!such a delight midst all that haemorrhoidal varicosity and that was just the thort process! I have enjoyed reading this blog and from this to poetreehugger. I failed to tell her, tecknolegy defeated me.Shall dip in again.
Ah, the joys of interconnectedness! We shall meet again ...
Oh, so beautiful post! That is what I am worried about every time I am in troubles "will there be a hand? Someone who knows the way to travel this grey distance and find the distant hills? " Fortunately there always is a hand of help from my friends, parents and boyfriend. I am happy:)
Thank you for these words, so, so special.
Thank *you*, Kirstin.
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